But when I stood beneath the fresh green tree, [to live, Which living waves where thou didst cease And saw around me the wide field revive With fruits and fertile promise, and the Spring

Come forth her work of gladness to contrive, With all her reckless birds upon the wing, I turned from all she brought to those she could not bring.

I turned to thee, to thousands, of whom each

And one as all a ghastly gap did make In his own kind and kindred, whom to teach Forgetfulness were mercy for their sake; The Archangel's trump, not glory's, must awake [sound of fame Those whom they thirst for: though the May for a moment soothe, it cannot slake The fever of vain longing, and the name So honoured, but assumes a stronger, bitterer claim.

Existence by enjoyment, and count o'er Such hours 'gainst years of life,-say, would he name threescore?

The Psalmist numbered out the years of

man;

They are enough; and if thy tale be true, Thou, who didst grudge him even that fleeting span,

More than enough, thou fatal Waterloo ! Millions of tongues record thee, and anew Their children's lips shall echo them, and say, [drew, "Here, where the sword united nations Our countrymen were warring on that day!" And this is much, and all which will not pass away.

THE OCEAN.

OH that the Desert were my dwelling-place,
With one fair Spirit for my minister,
That I might all forget the human race,
And hating no one, love but only her!
Ye Elements !-in whose ennobling stir
I feel myself exalted-can ye not
Accord me such a being? Do I err
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,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes,
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar !
I love not man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the Universe, and feel
What I can ne'er express, yet cannot 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 [main

plain

The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth re-
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,
[and unknown.
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined,
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 sendest 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.
[walls

The armaments which thunderstrike the
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
[Trafalgar.

mar

Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of

'TIS moonlight over Oman's Sea;

Her banks of pearl and palmy isles Bask in the night-beam beauteously,

And her blue waters sleep in smiles. "Tis moonlight in Harmozia's walls, And through her Emir's porphyry halls, Where, some hours since, was heard the swell

Of trumpet and the clash of zel,
Bidding the bright-eyed sun farewell;-
The peaceful sun, whom better suits
The music of the bulbul's nest,
Or the light touch of lovers' lutes,

To sing him to his golden rest!
All hushed-there's not a breeze in motion;
The shore is silent as the ocean.
If zephyrs come, so light they come,

Nor leaf is stirred nor wave is driven ;The wind-tower on the Emir's dome

Can hardly win a breath from heaven.

THE CALM.

HOW CALM, how beautiful comes on
The stilly hour, when storms are gone;
When warring winds have died away,
And clouds, beneath the glancing ray,
Melt off, and leave the land and sea
Sleeping in bright tranquillity,
Fresh as if day again were born,
Again upon the lap of Morn!
When the light blossoms, rudely torn
And scattered at the whirlwind's will,
Hang floating in the pure air still,
Filling it all with precious balm,
In gratitude for this sweet calm;
And every drop the thunder-showers
Have left upon the grass and flowers
Sparkles, as 'twere the lightning gem
Whose liquid flame is born of them;

When, 'stead of one unchanging breeze,
There blow a thousand gentle airs,
And each a different perfume bears,—

As if the loveliest plants and trees Had vassal breezes of their own To watch and wait on them alone, And waft no other breath. than theirs ; When the blue waters rise and fall, In sleepy sunshine mantling all, And e'en that swell the tempest leaves Is like the full and silent heaves Of lovers' hearts, when newly blest, Too newly to be quite at rest.

ever gave,

CASHMERE.

WHO has not heard of the Vale of Cashmere, With its roses the brightest that earth [clear Its temples, and grottos, and fountains as As the love-lighted eyes that hang over their wave!