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2. For them is Sorrow's purest sigh

O'er Ocean's heaving bosom sent : In vain their bones unburied lie,

All earth becomes their monument !

3. A tomb is theirs on every page,

An epitaph on every tongue : The present hours, the future age,

For them bewail, to them belong.

4. For them the voice of festal mirth

Grows hushed, their name the only sound; While deep Remembrance pours to Worth

The goblet's tributary round.

A theme to crowds that knew them not,

Lamented by admiring foes,
Who would not share their glorious lot?

Who would not die the death they chose ?

6. And, gallant Parker ! thus enshrined

Thy life, thy fall, thy fame shall be ; And early valour, glowing, find

A model in thy memory.

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But there are breasts that bleed with thee

In woe, that glory cannot quell; And shuddering hear of victory,

Where one so dear, so dauntless, fell.

Where shall they turn to mourn thee less ?

When cease to hear thy cherished name?
Time cannot teach forgetfulness,

While Grief's full heart is fed by Fame.

Alas! for them, though not for thee,

They cannot choose but weep the more;
Deep for the dead the grief must be,
Who ne'er gave cause to mourn before.

October 7, 1814. [First published, Morning Chronicle, October 7, 1814.)



The Night came on the Waters—all was rest
On Earth-but Rage on Ocean's troubled Heart.
The Waves arose and rolled beneath the blast;
The Sailors gazed upon their shivered Mast.
In that dark Hour a long loud gathered cry
From out the billows pierced the sable sky,
And borne o'er breakers reached the craggy shore-
The Sea roars on—that Cry is heard no more.

There is no vestige, in the Dawning light,
Of those that shrieked thro' shadows of the Night.
The Bark—the Crew-the very Wreck is gone,
Marred-mutilated—traceless—all save one.

1. (From an autograph MS. in the possession of Mr. Murray, now for the first time printed.]

In him there still is Life, the Wave that dashed
On shore the plank to which his form was lashed,
Returned unheeding of its helpless Prey-
The lone survivor of that Yesterday-
The one of Many whom the withering Gale
Hath left unpunished to record their Tale.
But who shall hear it ? on that barren Sand
None comes to stretch the hospitable hand.
That shore reveals no print of human foot,
Nor e'en the pawing of the wilder Brute;
And niggard vegetation will not smile,
All sunless on that solitary Isle.

3. The naked Stranger rose, and wrung his hair, And that first moment passed in silent prayer. Alas! the sound-he sunk into DespairHe was on Earth—but what was Earth to him, Houseless and homeless—bare both breast and limb ? Cut off from all but Memory he curst His fate-his folly—but himself the worst. What was his hope? he looked upon the WaveDespite-of all—it still may be his Grave!


He rose and with a feeble effort shaped
His course unto the billows-late escaped :
But weakness conquered-swam his dizzy glance,
And down to Earth he sunk in silent trance.
How long his senses bore its chilling chain,
He knew not-but, recalled to Life again,
A stranger stood beside his shivering form-
And what was he? had he too scaped the storm?

5. He raised young Julian. “Is thy Cup so full “Of bitterness--thy Hope—thy heart so dull “That thou shouldst from Thee dash the Draught of Lif “So late escaped the elemental strife! “Rise—tho' these shores few aids to Life supply, “Look upon me, and know thou shalt not die. “Thou gazest in mute wonder-more may be “Thy marvel when thou knowest mine and me. “But come—The bark that bears us hence shall find “Her Haven, soon, despite the warning Wind."

6. He raised young Julian from the sand, and such Strange power of healing dwelt within the touch, That his weak limbs grew light with freshened Power, As he had slept not fainted in that hour, And woke from Slumber—as the Birds awake, Recalled at morning from the branchéd brake, When the day's promise heralds early Spring, And Heaven unfolded woos their soaring wing: So Julian felt, and gazed upon his Guide, With honest Wonder what might next betide.

Dec. 12, 1814.


BELSHAZZAR! from the banquet turn,

Nor in thy sensual fulness fall;

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Behold! while yet before thee burn

The graven words, the glowing wall, Many a despot men miscall

Crowned and anointed from on high ; But thou, the weakest, worst of all

Is it not written, thou must die pü



Go! dash the roses from thy brow

Grey hairs but poorly wreathe with them; Youth's garlands misbecome thee now,

More than thy very diadem,
Where thou hast tarnished every gem :-

Then throw the worthless bauble by, Which, worn by thee, ev'n slaves contemn;

And learn like better men to die !

3. Oh! early in the balance weighed,

And ever light of word and worth, Whose soul expired ere youth decayed,

And left thee but a mass of earth,

And who, on earth, dare mar the mirth

Of that high festival !
The prophet dares-before thee glows
Belshazzar rise, nor dare despise

The writing on the wall!


Thy vice might raise th' avenging steel,

Thy meanness shield thee from the blow

And they who loathe thee proudly feel.-MS.) i. The words of God along the wall.-[MS. erased.]

The word of God-the graven wall.-MS.) ii. Behold it written :-(MS.] iii. thy sullied diadem.-[MS.)

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