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You roused each gentler sense As, sighing o'er the Blossom's bloom, Meek Evening wakes its soft perfume

With viewless influence.

Poor Stumbler on the rocky coast of Woe,
Tutor'd by Pain each source of Pain to know !
Alike the foodful fruit and scorching fire
Awake thy eager grasp and young desire ;
Alike the Good, the Ill offend thy sight,
And rouse the stormy sense of shrill affright!
Untaught, yet wise! 'mid all thy brief alarms

Thou closely clingest to thy Mother's arms,
Nestling thy little face in that fond breast
Whose anxious heavings lull thee to thy rest!
Man's breathing Miniature! thou makest me sigh-
A Babe art thou—and such a thing am I!
To anger rapid and as soon appeased,
For trifles mourning and by trifles pleased,
Break Friendship’s Mirror with a techy blow,
Yet snatch what coals of fire on Pleasure's altar

glow!

And hark, my Love! The sea-breeze moans
Through yon reft house! O'er rolling stones

In bold ambitious sweep,
The onward-surging tides supply
The silence of the cloudless sky

With mimic thunders deep.

Dark reddening from the channell’d Isle* (Where stands one solitary pile

Unslated by the blast)
The Watch-fire, like a sullen star
Twinkles to many a dozing Tar

Rude cradled on the mast.

O thou that rearest with celestial aim
The future Seraph in my mortal frame,
Thrice-holy Faith! whatever thorns I meet
As on I totter with unpractised feet,
Still let me stretch my arms and cling to thee,
Meek Nurse of Souls through their long Infancy!

Even there—beneath that light-house tower-
In the tumultuous evil hour

Ere Peace with Sara came,
Time was, I should have thought it sweet
To count the echoings of my feet,

And watch the storm-vex'd flame.

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I felt it prompt the tender Dream,
When slowly sunk the day's last gleam;

* The Holmes, in the Bristol Channes.

In Pity's dew divine ;

Despised Galilæan! For the Great And from your heart the sighs that steal Invisible (by symbols only seen) Shall make your rising bosom feel

With a peculiar and surpassing light The answering swell of mine!

Shines from the visage of the oppress'd good Man

When heedless of himself the scourged Saint How oft, my Love! with shapings sweet

Mourns for the Oppressor. Fair the vernal Mead I paint the moment we shall meet!

Fair the high Grove, the Sea, the Sun, the Stars, With eager speed I dart

True impress each of their creating Sire! I seize you in the vacant air,

Yet nor high Grove, nor many-color'd Mead, And fancy, with a Husband's care

Nor the green Ocean with his thousand Isles, I press you to my heart !

Nor the starr'd Azure, nor the sovran Sun, *T is said, on Summer's evening hour

E'er with such majesty of portraiture Flashes the golden-color'd flower

Imaged the supreme beauty uncreate, A fair electric fame :

As thou, meek Savior! at the fearful hour And so shall flash my love-charged eye

When thy insulted Anguish wing'd the prayer When all the heart's big ecstasy

Harp'd by Archangels, when they sing of Mercy! Shoots rapid through the frame!

Which when the Almighty heard from forth his

Throne,
Diviner light fillid Heaven with ecstasy!

Heaven's hymnings paused and Hell her yawning
LINES

mouth

Closed a brief moment.
TO A FRIEND IN ANSWER TO A MELANCHOLY
LETTER.

Lovely was the death Away, those cloudy looks, that laboring sigh,

Of Him whose life was love! Holy with power The peevish offspring of a sickly hour!

He on the thought-benighted sceptic beam'd Nor meanly thus complain of Fortune's power,

Manisest Godhead, melting into day When the blind Gamester throws a luckless die. What floating mists of dark Idolatry

Broke and misshaped the Omnipresent Sire: Yon setting Sun flashes a mournful gleam

And first by Fear uncharm'd the drowsed Soul.* Behind those broken clouds, his stormy train : Till of its nobler nature it ’gan feel To-morrow shall the many-color'd main

Dim recollections : and thence soar'd to Hope, In brightness roll beneath his orient beam! Strong to believe whate'er of mystic good

The Eternal dooms for his immortal Sons.
Wild, as the autumnal gust, the hand of Time From Hope and firmer Faith to perfect Love
Flies o'er his mystic lyre: in shadowy dance Attracted and absorb'd: and centred there
The alternate groups of Joy and Grief advance, God only to behold, and know, and feel,
Rexponisive to his varying strains sublime ! Till by exclusive Consciousness of God

All self-annihilated it shall make
Bears on its wing each hour a load of Fate; God its Identity : God all in all!
The swain, who, lull'd by Seine's mild murmurs, led We and our Father one !
His weary oxen to their nightly shed,
Today may rule a tempest-troubled State.

And bless'd are they,

Who in this fleshly World, the elect of Heaven, Nor shall not Fortune with a vengeful smile

Their strong eye darting through the deeds of Men, Survey the sanguinary Despot's might,

Adore with stedfast unpresuming gaze And haply hurl the Pageant from his height,

Him Nature's Essence, Mind, and Energy! Cowept to wander in some savage isle.

And gazing, trembling, patiently ascend There, shir’ring sad beneath the tempest's frown,

Treading beneath their feet all visible things Round his tir'd limbs to wrap the purple vest ;

As steps, that upward to their Father's Throne And mix'd with nails and beads, an equal jest !

Lead gradual-else nor glorified nor loved.
Barter, for food, the jewels of his crown.

They nor Contempt embosom nor Revenge.
For they dare know of what may seem deform
The Supreme Fair sole Operant: in whose sight
All things are pure, his strong controlling Love

Alike from all educing perfect good.
RELIGIOUS MUSINGS;

Theirs too celestial courage, inly arm'd-
A DESULTORY POEM,

Dwarfing Earth's giant brood, what time they muse

On their great Father, great beyond compare ! WRITTEN ON THE CHRISTMAS EVE OF 1794.

And marching onwards view high o'er their heads This is the time, when most divine to hear,

His waving Banners of Omnipotence.
The voice of Adoration rouses me,
As with a Cherub's trump: and high upborne,

Who the Creator love, created might
Yea, mingling with the Choir, I seem to view Dread not : within their tents no terrors walk.
The vision of the heavenly multitude,
Who bymn'd the song of Peace o'er Bethlehem's

Το Νοητον διηρηκασιν εις πολλων fields ! Yet thou more bright than all the Angel blaze.

θεων ιδιοτητας. .

DAMAS. de Myst. Ægypt. That harbingerd thy birth, Thou, Man of Woes !

Hell;

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For they are holy things before the Lord,

Parts and proportions of one wondrous whole! Aye unprofaned, though Earth should league with This fraternizes Man, this constitutes

Our charities and bearings. But it is God God's Altar grasping with an eager hand,

Diffused through all, that doth make ail one whole Fear, the wild-visaged, pale, eye-starting wretch, This the worst superstition, him except Sure-refuged hears his hot pursuing fiends

Aught to desire, Supreme Reality! Yell at vain distance. Soon refresh'd from Heaven, The plenitude and permanence of bliss! He calms the throb and tempest of his heart. O Fiends of Superstition ! not that oft His countenance seuiles ; a soft solemn bliss The erring Priest hath stain’d with brother's blood Swims in his eye-his swimming eye upraised : Your grisly idols, not for this may wrath And Faith's whole armor glitters on his limbs! Thunder against you from the Holy One! And thus transfigured with a dreadless awe, But o'er some plain that steameth to the sun, A solemn hush of soul, meek he beholds

Peopled with Death ; or where more hideous Trade All things of terrible seeming: yea, unmoved Loud-laughing packs his bales of human anguish: Views e'en the immitigable ministers

I will raise up a mourning, Oye Fiends! That shower down vengeance on these latter days. And curse your spells, that film the eye of Faith, For kindling with intenser Deity

Hiding the present God; whose presence lost, From the celestial Mercy-seat they comé,

The moral world's cohesion, we become And at the renovating Wells of Love

An anarchy of Spirits ! Toy-bewiich’d,
Have fillid their Vials with salutary Wrath, Made blind by lusts, disherited of soul,
To sickly Nature more medicinal

No common centre Man, no common sire
Than what soft balm the weeping good man pours Knoweth ! A sordid solitary thing,
Into the lone despoiled traveller's wounds! | 'Mid countless brethren with a lonely heart

Through courts and cities the smooth Savage roams,

Feeling himself, his own low Self the whole ; Thus from the Elect, regenerate through faith,

When he by sacred sympathy might make Pass the dark Passions and what thirsty Cares

The whole one Self! Self that no alien knows! Drink up the spirit and the dim regards

Self, far diffused as Fancy's wing can travel! Self-centre. Lo they vanish! or acquire

Self, spreading still! Oblivious of its own, New names, new features—by supernal grace

Yet all of all possessing! This is Faith!
Enrobed with light, and naturalized in Heaven.

This the Messiah's destin'd victory !
As when a shepherd on a vernal morn
Through some thick fog creeps timorous with slow
foot,

But first offences needs must come! Even now Darkling he fixes on the immediate road

(Black Hell laughs horrible—to hear the scoff!) His downward eye: all else of fairest kind

Thee to defend, meek Galilæan! Thee Hid or deform’d. But lo! the bursting Sun! And thy mild laws of love unutterable, Touch'd by the enchantment of that sudden beam, Mistrust and Enmity have burst the bands Straight the black vapor melteth, and in globes Of social Peace; and listening Treachery lurks Of dewy glitter gems each plant and tree; With pious Fraud to snare a brother's life; On every leaf, on every blade it hangs!

And childless widows o'er the groaning land Dance glad the new-born intermingling rays, Wail numberless; and orphans weep for bread ; And wide around the landscape streams with glory! Thee to defend, dear Savior of Mankind !

Thee, Lamb of God! Thee, blameless Prince of

Peace! There is one Mind, one omnipresent Mind,

From all sides rush the thirsty brood of War! Omnific. His most holy naige is Love.

Austria, and that foul Woman of the North, Truth of subliming import! with the which

The lustful Murderess of her wedded Lord ! Who feeds and saturates his constant soul,

And he, connatural Mind! whom (in their songs He from his small particular orbit flies

So bards cf elder time had haply feign'd)
With bless'd outstarting! From Ilimself he flies,
Stands in the Sun, and with no partial gaze

Some Fury fondled in her hate to man,

Bidding her serpent hair in mazy surge Views all creation; and he loves it all,

Lick his young face, and at his mouth inbreathe And blesses it, and calls it very good! This is indeed to dwell with the Most High!

Horrible sympathy! And leagued with these

Each petty German princeling, nursed in gore! Cherubs and rapture-trembling Seraphim

Soul-harden'd barterers of human blood !
Can press no nearer to the Almighty's Throne.
But that we roam unconscious, or with hearts
Unfeeling of our universal Sire,

• January 21st, 1794, in the debate on the Address to his And that in his vast family no Cain

Majesty, on the speech from the Throne, the Earl of Guild

ford moved an Amendment to the following effect :-" That Injures uninjured (in her best-aim'd blow

the House hoped his Majesty would seizo the earliest oppor Victorious Murder a blind Suicide),

tunity to conclude a peace with France," etc. This motion Haply for this some younger Angel now

was opposed by the Duke of Portland, who "considered the Looks down on Human Nature : and, behold! war to be merely grounded on one principle—the preservatio A sea of blood bestrew'd with wrecks, where mad

of the Christian Religion.” May 30th, 1794, the Duke o.

Bedford moved a number of Resolutions, with a view to the Embattling Interests on each other rush

Establishment of a Peace with France. He was opposed With unhelm'd rage !

(among others) by Lord Abingdon in these remarkable words, The best road to Peace, my Lords, is War! and War car

ried on in the same manner in which we are taught to worship 'Tis the sublime of man, our Creator, namely, with all our souls, and with all our Jur nematide Majesty, to know ourselves

minds, and with all our hearts, and with all our strength."

Death's prime Slave-merchants! Scorpion-whips, of When, stung to rage by Pity, eloquent men
Fate!

Have roused with pealing voice unnumber'd tribes Nor least in savagery of holy zeal,

That toil and groan and bleed, hungry and blind Apt for the yoke, the race degenerate,

These hush'd awhile with patient eye serene, Whou Britain ers: had blush'd to call her sons ! Shall watch the mad careering of the storm; Thee to defend the Moloch Priest prefers

Then o'er the wild and wavy chaos rush The prayer of hate, and bellows to the herd And tame the outrageous mass, with plastic might Tha: Deity, Accomplice Deity

Moulding Confusion to such perfect forms, In the fierce jealousy of waken'd wrath

As erst were wont, bright visions of the day! Will go forth with our arties and our fleets, To float before them, when, the Summer noon, To scatter the red ruin on their foes ?

Beneath some arch'd romantic rock reclined, O blasphemy! to mingle fiendish deeds

They felt the sea-breeze lift their youthful locks ; With blessedness !

Or in the month of blossoms, at mild eve,

Wandering with desultory feet inhaled
Lord of unsleeping Love,*

The wasted perfumes, and the rocks and woods From everlasting Thou! We shall not die.

And many-tinted streams and setting Sun These, even these, in mercy didst thou form,

With all his gorgeous company of clouds Teachers of Good through Evil, by brief wrong

Ecstatic gazed! then homeward as they stray'd Making Truth lovely, and her future might

Cast the sad eye to earth, and inly mused
Magnetic o'er the fix'd untrembling heart.

Why there was Misery in a world so fair.
Ah far removed from all that glads the sense,

From all that softens or ennobles Man,
In the primeval age a dateless while

The wretched Many! Bent beneath their loaas The vacant Shepherd wander'd with his flock, Pitching his tent where'er the green grass waved.

They gape at pageant Power, nor recognize

Their cots' transmuted plunder! From the tree But soon Imagination conjured up An host of new desires : with busy aim,

Of Knowledge, ere the vernal sap had risen

Rudely disbranch'd! Blessed Society! Each for himself, Earth's eager children toil'd.

Fitliest depictured by some sun-scorch'd waste, So Property began, two-streaming fount, Whence Vice and Virtue flow, honey and gall.

Where oft majestic through the tainted noon

The Simoom sails, before whose purple pomp
Hence the soft couch, and many-color'd robe,
The timbrel, and arch'd dome and costly feast,

Who falls not prostrate dies ! And where by night With all the inventive arts, that nursed the soul

Fast by each precious fountain on green herbs

The lion couches; or hyena dips
To forms of beauty, and by sensual wants
Creenstialized the mind, which in the means

Deep in the lucid stream his bloody jaws • learni to forget the grossness of the end,

Or serpent plants his vast moon-glittering pulk, Besi pleasured with its own activity.

Caught in whose monstrous twine Behemoth* yells

His bones loud-crashing !
And hence Disease that withers manhood's arm,
The dagger'd Envy, spirit-quenching Want,
Warriors, and Lords, and Priests—all the sore ills

O ye numberless, That vex and desolate our mortal life.

Whom foul Oppression's ruffian gluttony Wide-wasting ills! yet each the immediate source Drives from life's plenteous feast ! thou por Of mightier good. Their keen necessities

wretch, To ceaseless action goading human thought Who nursed in darkness and made wild by want, Have made Earth's reasoning animal her Lord; Roamest for prey, yea thy unnatural hand And the pale-featured Sage's trembling hand Dost lift to deeds of blood ! O pale-eyed form, Strong as an host of armed Deities,

The victim of seduction, door'd to know Such as the blind Ionian fabled erst.

Polluted nights and days of blasphemy ;

Who in lothed orgies with lewd wassailers From Avarice thus, from Luxury and War

Must gaily laugh, while thy remember'd home Sprang heavenly Science ; and from Science Gnaws like a viper at thy secret heart ! Freedom.

O aged Women! ye who weekly catch O'er waken'd realms Philosophers and Bards

The morsel toss'd by law-forced Charity, Spread in concentric circles : they whose souls, And die so slowly, that none call it murder! Conscious of their high dignities from God, O lothely Suppliants! ye, that unreceived Brook not Wealth's rivalry! and they who long

Totter heart-broken from the closing gates Enamour'd with the charms of order hate

Of the full Lazar-house : or, gazing, stand The unseemly disproportion : and whoe'er Sick with despair! O ye to Glory's field Turn with mild sorrow from the victor's car

Forced or ensnared, who, as ye gasp in death, And the low puppetry of thrones, to muse

Bleed with new wounds beneath the Vulture's beak On that blest triumph, when the patriot Sage O thou poor Widow, who in dreams dost view Called the red lightnings from the o'er-rushing cloud, Thy Husband's mangled corse, and from short doze And dash'd the beauteous Terrors on the earth Start'st with a shriek ; or in thy half-thatch'd cot Smiling majestic. Such a phalanx ne'er

Waked by the wintry night-storm, wet and cold, Measured firm paces to the calming sound Cow'rst o'er thy screaming baby! Rest awhilo Of Spartan flute! These on the fated day,

• Behemoth, in Hebrew, signifies wild beasts in genera.. Art thou not from everlasting. O Lord, mine Holy one? Some believe it is the elephant, some the hippopotamus; some We shall not die. O Lord thou hast ordained them for judg- affirm it is she wild bull. Poetically, it designates any largo fant, ete.- Habakkuk.

quadruped.

Children of Wretchedness! More groans must rise. With conscious zeal had urged Love's wondrous plan
More blood must stream, or ere your wrongs be full. Coadjutors of God. To Milton's trump
Yet is the day of Retribution nigh:

The high Groves of the renovated Earth
The Lamb of God hath open'd the fifth seal: Unbosom their glad echoes : inly hushid,
And upward rush on swiftest wing of Sre

Adoring Newton his serener eye The innumerable multitude of wrongs

Raises to heaven: and he of mortal kind By man on man inflicted! Rest awhile,

Wisest, he* first who mark'd the ideal tribes Children of Wretchedness! The hour is nigh ; Up the fine fibres through the sentient brain. And lo! the Great, the Rich, the Mighty Men, Lo! Priestley there, Patriot, and Saint, and Sage, The Kings and the Chief Captains of the World, Him, full of years, from his loved native land With all that fix'd on high like stars of Heaven Statesmen blood-stain'd and Priests idolatrous Shot baleful influence, shall be cast to earth, By dark lies maddening the blind multitude Vile and dowr.-trodden, as the untimely fruit Drove with vain hate. Calm, pitying, he retired, Shook from the fig-tree by a sudden storm. And mused expectant on these promised years. Even now the storm begins : * each gentle name, Farth and meek Piety, with fearful joy

O years ! the blest pre-eminence of Saints ! Tremble far-off—for lo! the Giant Frenzy,

Ye sweep athwart my gaze, so heavenly bright, Uprooting empires with his whirlwind arm,

The wings that veil the adoring Seraph's eyes, Mocketh high Heaven ; burst hideous from the cell What time he bends before the Jasper Throne, Where the old Hag, unconquerable, huge,

Reflect no lovelier hues ! yet ye depart, Creation's eyeless drudge, black Ruin, sits

And all beyond is darkness! Heights most strange, Nursing the impatient earthquake.

Whence Fancy falls, fluttering her idle wing.
For who of woman born may paint the hour,

When seized in his mid course, the Sun shall wanie
O return!

Making noon ghastly! Who of woman born Pure Faith! meek Piety! The abhorred Form

May image in the workings of his thought, Whose scarlet robe was stiff with earthly pomp,

How the black-visaged, red-eyed Fiend outstretch'di Who drank iniquity in cups of gold,

Beneath the unsteady feet of Nature groans, Whose names were many and all blasphemous,

In feverish slumbers-destind then to wake, Hain met the horrible judgment! Whence that cry? When fiery whirlwinds thunder his dread name The mighty army of foul Spirits shriek'd

And Angels shout, Destruction! How his arm Disherited of earth! For she hath fallen

The last great Spirit lifting high in air
On whose black front was written Mystery ;

Shall swear by Him, the ever-living One,
She that reeld heavily, whose wine was blood; Time is no more !
Su that work'd whoredom with the Demon Power,
And from the dark embrace all evil things

Believe thou, O my soul
Brought forth and nurtured : mitred Atheism:
And patient Folly who on bended knee

Life is a vision shadowy of Truth; Gives back the steel that stabb'd him ; and pale And vice, and anguish, and the wormy grave, Fear

Shapes of a dream! The veiling clouds retire, Hunted by ghastlier shapings than surround

And lo! the Throne of the redeerning God
Moon-blasted Madness when he yells at midnight! Wraps in one blaze earth, heaven, and deepest hell

Forth flashing unimaginable day,
Return, pure Faith! return, meek Piety!
The kingdoms of the world are yours : each heart,
Self-govern’d, the vast family of Love

Contemplant Spirits! ye that hovor o'er
Raised from the common earth by common toil,

With untired gaze the immeasurabis fount Enjoy the equal produce. Such delights

Ebullient with creative Deity! As float to earth, permitted visitants !

And ye of plastic power, that interfused When in some hour of solemn jubilee

Roll through the grosser and material mass
The massy gates of Paradise are thrown

In organizing surge! Holies of God!
Wide open, and forth come in fragments wild (And what if Monads of the infinite mind)
Sweet echoes of unearthly melodies,

I haply journeying my immortal course
And odors snatch'd from beds of Amaranth, Shall sometime join your mystic choir? Till then
And they, that from the crystal river of life

I discipline my young noviciate thought Spring up on freshen’d wing, ambrosial gales !

In ministries of heart-stirring song, The favor'd good man in his lonely walk

And aye on Meditation's heavenward wing Perceives them, and his silent spirit drinks Soaring aloft I breathe the empyreal air Strange bliss which he shall recognize in heaven.

Of Love, omnific, omnipresent Love, And such delights, such strange beatitude

Whose day-spring rises glorious in my soul Seize on my young anticipating heart

As the great Sun, when he his influence
When that blest future rushes on my view! Sheds on the frost-bound waters—The glad stream
For in his own and in his Father's might

Flows to the ray, and warbles as it flows.
The Savior comes! While as the Thousand Years
Lead up their mystic dance, the Desert shouts !

David Hartley.
Old Ocean claps his hands! The mighty Dead
Rise to new life, whoe'er from earliest time

t Rev. Chap. iv. v. 2 and 3.-And immediately I was in the Spirit: and behold, a Throne was set in Heaven, and one sat on the throne. And he that sal was to look upon like a jasper

and sardine stone, etc. * Alluding to the French Revolution.

The final Destruction impersonated.

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