Inwrought with emblems of barbaric pride? Dissonant threats kill Silence far away;

The serene Heaven which wraps our Eden wide
With iron light is dyed;

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The Anarchs of the North lead forth their legions
Like Chaos o'er creation, uncreating;

An hundred tribes nourished on strange religions
And lawless slaveries, down the aërial regions
Of the white Alps, desolating,

Famished wolves that bide no waiting,

Blotting the glowing footsteps of old glory,
Trampling our columned cities into dust,
Their dull and savage lust

On Beauty's corse to sickness satiating

They come! The fields they tread look black and hoary With fire — from their red feet the streams run gory!

EPODE II. B.

Great Spirit, deepest Love!

Which rulest, and dost move

All things which live and are, within the Italian shore;
Who spreadest heaven around it,

Whose woods, rocks, waves, surround it,

Who sittest in thy star, o'er Ocean's western floor;

Spirit of beauty! at whose soft command

The sunbeams and the showers distil its foison

From the Earth's bosom chill;

O bid those beams be each a blinding brand

Of lightning! bid those showers be dews of poison!

Bid the Earth's plenty kill!

Bid thy bright Heaven above,

Whilst light and darkness bound it,

Be their tomb who planned

To make it ours and thine!

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Or, with thine harmonizing ardours fill
And raise thy sons, as o'er the prone horizon
Thy lamp feeds every twilight wave with fire —
Be man's high hope and unextinct desire

The instrument to work thy will divine!

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Then clouds from sunbeams, antelopes from leopards, 170 And frowns and fears from Thee,

Would not more swiftly flee

Than Celtic wolves from the Ausonian shepherds.

Whatever, Spirit, from thy starry shrine

Thou yieldest or withholdest, Oh let be

This city of thy worship ever free!

August 17-25, 1820.

175

GOOD NIGHT.

I.

GOOD night? ah! no; the hour is ill
Which severs those it should unite;
Let us remain together still,

Then it will be good night.

II.

How can I call the lone night good,
Though thy sweet wishes wing its flight?

Be it not said, thought, understood,
Then it will be good night.

III.

To hearts which near each other move
From evening close to morning light,
The night is good; because, my love,
They never say good night.

1820.

5

ΙΟ

THE WORLD'S WANDERERS.

I.

TELL me, thou star, whose wings of light

Speed thee in thy fiery flight,

In what cavern of the night

Will thy pinions close now?

II.

Tell me, moon, thou pale and gray
Pilgrim of heaven's homeless way,
In what depth of night or day
Seekest thou repose now?

III.

Weary wind, who wanderest
Like the world's rejected guest,
Hast thou still some secret nest

On the tree or billow?

1820.

TO THE MOON.

ART thou pale for weariness

Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless

Among the stars that have a different birth,-
And ever changing, like a joyless eye

That finds no object worth its constancy?

YE hasten to the grave! What seek ye there,
Ye restless thoughts and busy purposes

Of the idle brain, which the world's livery wear?
O thou quick heart which pantest to possess
All that pale Expectation feigneth fair!

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Thou vainly curious mind which wouldest guess
Whence thou didst come, and whither thou must go,
And all that never yet was known would know
Oh, whither hasten ye, that thus ye press,

With such swift feet life's green and pleasant path,
Seeking, alike from happiness and woe,

A refuge in the cavern of gray death?

O heart, and mind, and thoughts, what thing do you
Hope to inherit in the grave below?

DIRGE FOR THE YFAR.

I.

ORPHAN hours, the year is dead,-
Come and sigh, come and weep!
Merry hours, smile instead,

For the year is but asleep.

See, it smiles as it is sleeping,
Mocking your untimely weeping.

II.

As an earthquake rocks a corse
In its coffin in the clay,

So White Winter, that rough nurse,
Rocks the death-cold year to-day;

Solemn hours! wail aloud

For your mother in her shroud.

III.

As the wild air stirs and sways
The tree-swung cradle of a child,

So the breath of these rude days

Rocks the year :-be calm and mild,

1820.

IO

5

ΙΟ

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