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That gleams i’ the Indian air— have you And the rare stars rush through them not heard

dim and fast :When a man marries, dies, or turns All this is beautiful in every land. Hindoo,

But what see you beside ?-a shabby His best friends hear no more of him?

stand but you

Or Hackney coaches—a brick house or Will see him, and will like him too, I wall hope,

| Fencing some lonely court, white with With the milk-white Snowdonian Ante- the scrawl lope

Of our unhappy politics ;-or worseMatched with this cameleopard — his A wretched woman reeling by, whose fine wit

curse Makes such a wound, the knife is lost Mixed with the watchman's, partner of in it;

her trade, A strain too learned for a shallow age, You must accept in place of serenade Too wise for selfish bigots; let his page Or yellow-haired Pollonia murmuring Which charms the chosen spirits of the To Henry, some unutterable thing. time,

I see a chaos of green leaves and fruit Fold itself up for the serener clime Built round dark caverns, even to the or years to come, and find its recom

root pense

Of the living stems that feed them in In that just expectation. — Wit and whose bowers sense,

| There sleep in their dark dew the folded Virtue and human knowledge; all that flowers; might

Beyond, the surface of the unsickled Make this dull world a business of

corn delight,

Trembles not in the slumbering air, Are all combined in Ilorace Smith. --| and borne And these,

In circles quaint, and ever changing With some exceptions, which I need

ich I need

dance, not tease

Like winged stars the fire-flies flash and Your patience by descanting on,-are all glance, You and I know in London.

Pale in the open moonshine, but each I recall

one My thoughts, and bid you look upon Under the dark trees seems a little sun, the night.

A meteor tamed; a fixed star gone As water does a sponge, so the moonlight astray Fills the void, hollow, universal air — From the silver regions of the milky What see you?- unpavilioned heaven way ;is fair

Afar the Contadino's song is heard, Whether the moon, into her chamber Rude, but made sweet by distancegone,

and a bird Leaves midnight to the golden stars, Which cannot be the Nightingale, and or wan

yet Climbs with diminished beams the azure I know none else that sings so sweet steep;

as it Or whether clouds sail o'er the inverse At this late hour ;-and then all is deep,

stillPiloted by the many-wandering blast, Now Italy or London, which you will!

Next winter you must pass with me; We'll make our friendly philosoph I'll have

revel My house by that time turned into a Outlast the leafless time; till buds a grave

flowers Of dead despondence and low-thoughted Warn the obscure inevitable hours, care,

Sweet meeting by sad parting to renew ;) And all the dreams which our tormentors" To-morrow to fresh woods and pastu are;

new.” Oh! that Hunt, Hogg, Peacock, and

Smith were there, With everything belonging to them THE WITCH OF ATLAS

fair!
We will have books, Spanish, Italian,

TO MARY
Greek ;
And ask one week to make another

| (ON HIER OBJECTING TO THE FOLLO week

ING POEM, UPON THE SCORE OF 1 As like his father, as I'm unlike mine,

CONTAINING NO HUMAN INTERES Which is not his fault, as you may divine. Though we eat little flesh and drink no wine,

| How, my dear Mary, are you crit Yet let's be merry: we'll have tea and bitten, toast;

(For vipers kill, though dead,) Custards for supper, and an endless host some review, Or syllabubs and jellies and mince-pies,

| That you condemn these verses I ha And other such lady-like luxuries,

written, Feasting on which we will philosophise! | Because they tell no story, false And we'll have fires out of the Grand

true! Duke's wood,

What, though no mice are caught by To thaw the six weeks' winter in our young kitten, blood.

May it not leap and play as gro And then we'll talk ;--what shall we

cats do, talk about?

Till its claws come? Prithee, for 11 Oh! there are themes enough for many

one time, a bout

Content thee with a visionary rhyme. Of thought-entangled descant; -as to

II nerves With cones and parallelograms and / What hand would crush the silke curves

winged fly, I've sworn to strangle them is once they | The youngest of inconstant April dare

minions, To bother me--when you are with me Because it cannot climb the purest sky there.

Where the swan sings, amid the sur And they shall never more sip laudanum,

dominions? From llelicon or Ilimeros 1 ; - well, Not thine. Thou knowest 'tis its doo come,

to die, And in despite of God and of the devil, | When day shall hide within her tw

light pinions, 1 “Lurpos, from which the river Himera was the lucent eyes, and the eternal smile named, is, with some slight shade of difference, a synonym of Love.

| Serene as thine, which lent it life awhild

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VI To thy fair feet a winged Vision came, If you strip Peter, you will see a fellow, Whose date should have been longer Scorched by Hell's hyperequatorial than a day,

climate And o'er thy head did beat its wings for Into a kind of a' sulphureous yellow : fame,

A lean mark, hardly fit to fing a And in thy sight its fading plumes rhyme at; display ;

In shape a Scaramouch, in hue Othello. The watery bow burned in the evening. If you unveil my Witch, no priest nor fame,

primate But the shower sell, the swift sun Can shrive you of that sin,-if sin there went his way

be And that is dead. Oh let me not | In love, when it becomes idolatry.

believe
That any thing of mine is fit to live !

THE WITCH OF ATLAS
IV
Wordsworth informs us he was nineteen
years

Before those cruel Twins, whom at Considering and retouching Peter

one birth Bell:

Incestuous Change bore to her father Watering his laurels with the killing tears

Time, Of slow, dull care, so that their roots | Error and Truth, had hunted from the to hell

Earth Might pierce, and their wide branches

All those bright natures which adorned blot the spheres

its prime, or heaven, with dewy leaves and | And left us nothing to believe in, worth flowers ; this well

The pains of putting into learned May be, for Heaven and Earth conspire

rhyme, to foil

A lady - witch there lived on Atlas' The over-busy gardener's blundering toil.

mountain Within a cavern, by a secret fountain.

11

My Witch indeed is not so sweet a

creature As Ruth or Lucy, whom his graceful Her mother was one of the Atlantides : praise

| The all-beholding Sun had ne'er be. Clothes for our grandsons — but she holden matches Peter,

| In his wide voyage o'er continents and Though he took nineteen years, and

seas she three days

So fair a creature, as she lay ensolden In dressing. Light the vest of flowing in the warm shadow of her loveliness ;metre

He kissed her with his beams, and She wears; he, proud as dandy with made all golden his stays,

The chamber of gray rock in which she Has hung upon his wiry limbs a dress I layLike King Lear's “looped and windowed She, in that dream of joy, dissolved raggedness.”

away.

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'Tis said, she first was changed into a And first the spotted cameleopard came, vapour,

And then the wise and fearless eleAnd then into a cloud, such clouds

phant ; as flit,

Then the sly serpent, in the golden Like splendour-winged moths about a

flame taper,

or his own volumes intervolved ;-all Round the red west when the sun

gaunt dies in it :

And sanguine beasts her gentle looks And then into a meteor, such as caper

made tame. On hill-tops when the moon is in a They drank before her at her sacred

fount ; Then, into one of those mysterious stars And every beast of beating heart grew Which hide themselves between the bold, Earth and Mars.

Such gentleness and power even to be.

hold.

fit :

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doe.

Ten times the Mother of the Months had | The brinded lioness led forth her young, bent

That she might teach them how they Her bow beside the folding-star, and should forego bidden

| Their inborn thirst of death ; the pard With that bright sign the billows to unstrung indent

His sinews at her feet, and sought to The sea-deserted sand-like children

know chidden,

With looks whose motions spoke without At her command they ever came and

a tongue went

How he might be as gentle as the Since in that cave a dewy splendour hidden

The magic circle of her voice and eyes Took shape and motion : with the living All savage natures did imparadise.

form of this embodied Power, the cave grew

VIII warm.

And old Silenus, shaking a green stick

or lilies, and the wood-gods in a crew

Came, blithe, as in the olive copses A lovely lady garmented in light

thick From her own beauty - deep her Cicada are, drunk with the noonday eyes, as are

I dew : Two openings of unfathomable night And Dryope and Faunus followed quick, Seen through a Temple's cloven roof Teasing the God to sing them some- her hair

thing new ; Dark—the dim brain whirls dizzy with Till in this cave they found the lady lone, delight,

Sitting upon a seat of emerald stone. Picturing her form ; her soft smiles shone afar,

IX And her low voice was heard like love, And universal Pan, 'tis said, was there, and drew

And though none saw him,- through All living things towards this wondernew. the adamant

of the deep mountains, through the Seemed like the fleeting image of a shade: trackless air,

No thought of living spirit could abide, And through those living spirits, like Which to her looks had ever been bea want

trayed, He past out of his everlasting lair

On any object in the world so wide, Where the quick heart of the great On any hope within the circling skies, world doth pant,

But on her form, and in her inmost eyes. And felt that wondrous lady all alone, And she felt him, upon her emerald

XIII throne.

Which when the lady knew, she took

her spindle And every nymph of stream and spread. And twined three threads of fleecy ing tree,

mist, and three And every shepherdess of Ocean's Long lines of light, such as the dawn flocks,

may kindle Who drives her white waves over the The clouds and waves and mountains green sea,

with; and she And Ocean with the brine on his gray As many star-beams, ere their lamps locks,

could dwindle And quaint Priapus with his company, In the belated moon, wound skilfully; All came, much wondering how the And with these threads a subtle veil she enwombed rocks

woveCould have brought forth so beautiful A shadow for the splendour of her love.

a birth; Her love subdued their wonder and their

XIV mirth.

The deep recesses of her odorous dwell

ing The herdsmen and the mountain maidens Were stored with magic treasurescame,

sounds of air, And the rude kings of pastoral Gara- | Which had the power all spirits of commant

pelling, Their spirits shook within them, as a Folded in cells of crystal silence there; flame

Such as we hear in youth, and think the Stirred by the air under a cavern feeling gaunt :

| Will never die-yet ere we are aware, Pigmies, and Polyphemes, by many a The feeling and the sound are fled and name,

gone, Centaurs and Satyrs, and such shapes And the regret they leave remains alone,

as haunt Wet clefts, -and lumps neither alive nor

XV dead,

| And there lay Visions swift, and sweet, Dog - headed, bosom -eyed, and bird

and quaint, footed.

Each in its thin sheath, like a chrysalis, Some eager to burst forth, some weak

and faint For she was beautiful--her beauty made with the soft burthen of intensest The bright world dim, and everything bliss; beside

| It was their work to bear to many a saint

XI

XII

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