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"By heavenly Powers conducted, we have | But thou-I know not how inspired, how

met;

O brother! to my knowledge lost so long,
But neither lost to love, nor to regret,
Nor to my wishes lost;-forgive the wrong,
(Such it may seem) if I thy crown have
Thy royal mantle worn: [borne,
I was their natural guardian; and 'tis just
That now I should restore what hath been
held in trust."

A while the astonished Artegal stood mute, Then thus exclaimed-"To me, of titles shorn, [tute, And stripped of power!-me, feeble, destiTo me a kingdom!-spare the bitter

scorn!

If justice ruled the breast of foreign kings,
Then, on the wide-spread wings
Of war, had I returned to claim my right;
This will I here avow, not dreading thy
despite."

"I do not blame thee," Elidure replied; "But, if my looks did with my words agree, I should at once be trusted, not defied, And thou from all disquietude be free. May the unsullied goddess of the chase, Who to this blessed place At this blest moment led me, if I speak With insincere intent, on me her vengeance wreak!

"Were this same spear, which in my hand 1 grasp,

The British sceptre, here would I to thee The symbol yield; and would undo this clasp.

If it confined the robe of sovereignty.
Odious to me the pomp of regal court,

And joyless sylvan sport, [lorn, While thou art roving, wretched and forThy couch the dewy earth, thy roof the forest thorn!"

Then Artegal thus spake "I only sought,
Within this realm a place of safe retreat;
Beware of rousing an ambitious thought;
Beware of kindling hopes, for me unmeet!
Thou art reputed wise, but in my mind
Art pitiably blind;
[rue,
Full soon this generous purpose thou mayst
When that which has been done no wishes
can undo.

"Who, when a crown is fixed upon his head, [right with right? Would balance claim with claim, and

led[men's sight! Wouldst change the course of things in all And this for one who cannot imitate

Thy virtue-who may hate: For, if, by such strange sacrifice restored, He reign, thou still must be his king, and sovereign lord.

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The people answered with a loud acclaim: Yet more;-heart-smitten by the heroic deed,

The reinstated Artegal became

Such heart was in her, being then
A little prattler among men.
The blessing of my later years
Was with me when a boy :

She gave me eyes, she gave me ears;
And humble cares, and delicate fears;
A heart, the fountain of sweet tears;
And love, and thought, and joy.

TO A BUTTERFLY.

I'VE watched you now a full half-hour,.
Self-poised upon that yellow flower;
And, little butterfly! indeed
I know not if you sleep or feed.

How motionless!-not frozen seas
More motionless! and then

What joy awaits you, when the breeze
Hath found you out among the trees,
And calls you forth again!

Earth's noblest penitent; from bondage This plot of orchard-ground is ours;

freed

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My trees they are, my sister's flowers;
Here rest your wings when they are weary
Here lodge as in a sanctuary!
Come often to us, fear no wrong;
We'll talk of sunshine and of song;
Sit near us, on the bough!
And summer days when we were young;
Sweet childish days, that were as long
As twenty days are now.

A FAREWELL.

FAREWELL, thou little nook of mountain. ground,

Thou rocky corner in the lowest stair Of that magnificent temple which doth bound [rare; One side of our whole vale with grandeur Sweet garden-orchard, eminently fair, The loveliest spot that man hath ever found, [peaceful care,. Farewell!-we leave thee to Heaven's Thee, and the cottage which thou dost surround.

Our boat is safely anchored by the shore, And safely she will ride when we are gone;. The flowering shrubs that decorate our door

Will prosper, though untended and alone: Fields, goods, and far-off chattels we have [store These narrow bounds contain our private

none:

Of things earth makes and sun doth shine | Here, thronged with primroses, the steep

upon;

[more. Here they are in our sight-we have no

Sunshine and shower be with you, bud and bell! [sought; For two months now in vain we shall be We leave you here in solitude to dwell With these our latest gifts of tender thought; Thou, like the morning, in thy saffron coat, [well! Bright gowan, and marsh-marigold, fareWhom from the borders of the lake we brought,

And placed together near our rocky well.

We go for one to whom ye will be dear; And she will prize this bower, this Indian shed,

rock's breast

Glittered at evening like a starry sky; And in this bush our sparrow built her nest,

Of which I sung one song that will not die.

Oh, happy garden! whose seclusion deep Hath been so friendly to industrious hours; And to soft slumbers, that did gently steep Our spirits, carrying with them dreams of flowers, [bowers;

And wild notes warbled among leafy Two burning months let summer overleap, And, coming back with her who will be

ours,

Into thy bosom we again shall creep.

STANZAS

Our own contrivance, building without peer!
A gentle maid, whose heart is lowly bred,
Whose pleasures are in wild fields gathered,
With joyousness, and with a thoughtful WRITTEN IN MY POCKET-COPY OF THOM-

cheer,

Will come to you; to you herself will wedAnd love the blessed life that we lead here.

Dear spot! which we have watched with tender heed, [blown Bringing thee chosen plants and blossoms Among the distant mountains, flower and weed,

Which thou hast taken to thee as thy own, Making all kindness registered and known; Thou for our sakes, though nature's child indeed,

Fair in thyself and beautiful alone,

SON'S "CASTLE OF INDOLENCE.'

WITHIN our happy castle there dwelt one
Whom without blame I may not overlook;
For never sun on living creature shone
Who more devout enjoyment with us took:
Here on his hours he hung as on a book;
On his own time here would he float away,
As doth a fly upon a summer brook;
But go to-morrow-or belike to-day
Seek for him,-he is fled; and whither none

can say.

Thus often would he leave our peaceful home,

Hast taken gifts which thou dost little And find elsewhere his business or delight; need.

And oh, most constant, yet most fickle place, [dost show That hast thy wayward moods, as thou To them who look not daily on thy face; Who, being loved, in love no bounds dost know, [them go!" And say'st when we forsake thee, Let Thou easy-hearted thing, with thy wild race Of weeds and flowers, till we return be slow,

And travel with the year at a soft pace.

Help us to tell her tales of years gone by. And this sweet spring the best beloved and best.

Joy will be flown in its mortality: Something must stay to tell us of the rest.

Out of our valley's limits did he roam:
Full many a time, upon a stormy night,
His voice came to us from the neighbour-
ing height:

Oft did we see him driving full in view
At mid-day when the sun was shining
bright;

What ill was on him, what he had to do. A mighty wonder bred among our quiet

crew.

Ah! piteous sight it was to see this man When he came back to us, a withered flower,

Or like a sinful creature, pale and wan. Down would he sit; and without strength or power [hour. Look at the common grass from hour to And oftentimes, how long I fear to say,

Where apple-trees in blossom made a He would entice that other man to hear

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His music, and to view his imagery: And, sooth, these two did love each other dear,

As far as love in such a place could be; There did they dwell-from earthly labour free,

As happy spirits as were ever seen;
If but a bird, to keep them company,
Or butterfly sate down, they were, I ween,
As pleased as if the same had been a
maiden queen.

LOUISA.

I MET Louisa in the shade;
And having seen that lovely maid,
Why should I fear to say
And down the rocks can leap along,
That she is ruddy, fleet, and strong;
Like rivulets in May?

And she hath smiles to earth unknown;
Smiles, that with motion of their own
Do spread, and sink, and rise;
That come and go with endless play,
And ever, as they pass away,
Are hidden in her eyes.

She loves her fire, her cottage-home;
Yet o'er the moorland will she roam
In weather rough and bleak;
And, when against the wind she strains,
Oh, might I kiss the mountain rains,
That sparkle on her cheek!

Take all that's mine "beneath the moon,”
May sit beneath the walls
If I with her but half a noon

When up she winds along the brook
Of some old cave, or mossy noɔk,

To hunt the waterfalls.

STRANGE fits of passion I have known:
And I will dare to tell,

But in the lover's ear alone,
What once to me befel.

When she I loved was strong and gay,
And like a rose in June,

I to her cottage bent my way,
Beneath the evening moon.
Upon the moon I fixed my eye,
All over the wide lea;

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Immoveable by generous sighs,

She glories in a train

Who drag, beneath our native skies,
An oriental chain.

Pine not like them with armis across,
Forgetting in thy care

What fond and wayward thoughts will slide How the fast-rooted trees can toss

Into a lover's head

"Oh, mercy!" to myself I cried, "If Lucy should be dead!"

SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,

A maid whom there were none to praise,
And very few to love.

A violet by a mossy stone

Half-hidden from the eye!

Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.

She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and, oh,
The difference to me!

I TRAVELLED among unknown men,
In lands beyond the sea;
Nor, England! did I know till then
What love I bore to thee.

Tis past, that melancholy dream!
Nor will I quit thy shore
A second time; for still I seem
To love thee more and more.

Among thy mountains did I feel

The joy of my desire;

And she I cherished turned her wheel
Beside an English fire.

Their branches in mid air.

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