ILTON! thou shouldst be living at this hour:
England hath need of thee: she is a fen

M

Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen,
Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower,
Have forfeited their ancient English dower

Of inward happiness. We are selfish men;
Oh! raise us up, return to us again;

And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart :

Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea:

Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free,

So didst thou travel on life's common way

In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart

The lowliest duties on herself did lay.

HEN I have borne in memory what has tamed
Great Nations, how ennobling thoughts depart

When men change swords for ledgers, and desert

The student's bower for gold, some fears unnamed
I had, my Country!-am I to be blamed?

Now, when I think of thee, and what thou art,
Verily, in the bottom of my heart,

Of those unfilial fears I am ashamed.

For dearly must we prize thee; we who find
In thee a bulwark for the cause of men;

And I by my affection was beguiled :
What wonder if a Poet now and then,
Among the many movements of his mind,
Felt for thee as a lover or a child.

HE world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:

Little we see in Nature that is ours;

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This sea that bares her bosom to the moon,

The winds that will be howling at all hours
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for every thing, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.-Great God! I'd rather be
A pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,

Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;

Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

ON THE EXTINCTION OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC.

NCE 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—

Venice, the eldest Child of Liberty!

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.

And what if she has seen these 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 away.

TO TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE.

JOUSSAINT, the most unhappy man of men!
Whether the all-cheering sun be free to shed

His beams around thee, or thou rest thy head
Pillowed in some dark dungeon's earless den :--
O miserable Chieftain! where and when

Wilt thou find patience? Yet die not; do thou
Wear rather in thy bonds a cheerful brow:
Though fallen thyself, never to rise again,
Live, and take comfort. Thou hast left behind

Powers that will work for thee: air, earth and skies;

There's not a breathing of the common wind

That will forget thee; thou hast great allies;

Thy friends are exultations, agonies,

And love, and man's unconquerable mind.