X.

Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song!
And let the young Lambs bound

As to the tabor's sound!

We in thought will join your throng,

Ye that pipe and ye that play,

Ye that through your hearts to-day

Feel the gladness of the May!

What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,

Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy

Which having been must ever be,

In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering,

In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.

XI.

And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves,

Think not of any severing of our loves!

Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might;

I only have relinquished one delight

To live beneath your more habitual sway.

I love the Brooks which down their channels fret,
Even more than when I tripped lightly as they ;
The innocent brightness of a new-born Day
Is lovely yet;

The Clouds that gather round the setting sun
Do take a sober colouring from an eye

That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality;
Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

SONNETS

1.-COMPOSED BY THE SEA-SIDE, NEAR CALAIS.
AUGUST 1802.

FAIR Star of Evening, Splendour of the West,
Star of my country!-on the horizon's brink
Thou hangest, stooping, as might seem, to sink
On England's bosom; yet well pleased to rest,
Meanwhile, and be to her a glorious crest
Conspicuous to the Nations. Thou, I think,

Should'st be my Country's emblem; and should'st wink,
Bright Star! with laughter on her banners, drest

In thy fresh beauty.

There! that dusky spot

Beneath thee, it is England; there it lies.
Blessings be on you both! one hope, one lot,
One life, one glory! I with many a fear
For my dear Country, many heartfelt sighs,
Among Men who do not love her, linger here.

II.-CALAIS, August 1802.

Is it a Reed that's shaken by the wind,

Or what is it that ye go forth to see?

Lords, Lawyers, Statesmen, Squires of low degree, Men known, and men unknown, sick, lame, and blind, Post forward all, like creatures of one kind,

With first-fruit offerings crowd to bend the knee

In France, before the new-born Majesty.
'Tis ever thus. Ye Men of prostrate mind!

A seemly reverence may be paid to power;

But that's a loyal virtue, never sown

In haste, nor springing with a transient shower:
When truth, when sense, when liberty were flown,
What hardship had it been to wait an hour?
Shame on you, feeble Heads, to slavery prone !