It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, 5 The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea: Listen! the mighty Being is awake, 10 If thou appear untouched by solemn thought, Thy nature is not therefore less divine: Thou liest in Abraham's bosom3 all the year; And worshipp'st at the temple's inner shrine, God being with thee when we know it 10 ON THE EXTINCTION OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLICI 1802 1807 Once did She hold the gorgeous East in fee; And was the safeguard of the West: the worth Of Venice did not fall below her birth, 5 She was a maiden City, bright and free; No guile seduced, no force could violate; And, when she took unto herself a Mate, She must espouse the everlasting Sea.2 And what if she had seen those glories fade, Those titles vanish, and that strength decay; Yet shall some tribute of regret be paid When her long life hath reached its final day: Men are we, and must grieve when even the Shade Of that which once was great is passed Milton! thou shouldst be living at this England hath need of thee: she is a fen 5 Have forfeited their ancient English dower Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart; 10 Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like 15 20 O blessèd vision! happy child! I think of thee with many fears For what may be thy lot in future years. I thought of times when Pain might be Lord of thy house and hospitality; But when she sate within the touch of thee. O vain and causeless melancholy! Nature will either end thee quite; Or, lengthening out thy season of delight, 25 What hast thou to do with sorrow, Ill fitted to sustain unkindly shocks, But, at the touch of wrong, without a strife TO THE DAISY 1802 1807 In youth from rock to rock I went, Most pleased when most uneasy; 5 But now my own delights I make,My thirst at every rill can slake, And gladly, Nature's love partake Of thee, sweet Daisy! Thee, Winter in the garland wears 10 That thinly decks his few gray hairs; Spring parts the clouds with softest airs, That she may sun thee; Whole Summer-fields are thine by right; And Autumn, melancholy wight! 15 Doth in thy crimson head delight When rains are on thee. |