7.

The day becomes more solemn and serene
When noon is past-there is a harmony
In autumn, and a lustre in its sky,

Which through the summer is not heard or

seen,

As if it could not be, as if it had not been!
Thus let thy power, which like the truth
Of nature on my passive youth
Descended, to my onward life supply
Its calm-to one who worships thee,
And every form containing thee,
Whom, SPIRIT fair, thy spells did bind
To fear himself, and love all human kind.

SONNET.

OZYMANDIAS.

I MET a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, (stamped on these lifeless things,)

The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:

And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.'

1 Compare this with the passage about the pyramids in Queen Mab, section ix, page 69 of vol. i.

END OF VOL. II.

CHISWICK PRESS :-C. WHITTINGHAM AND CO.

TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE.