XXV.

Thus sank the star that from our country's brow
Beam'd with immortal radiance! And the gain,
What was it, of his cold, man-hating foe?
He fled from infamy,—a wandering Cain ;

His life a torture, and his name a stain !
When will true Honour's sons to teach unite
That coward Wrong alone incurs disdain;

That only deeds which Heaven approves are bright; That Courage bides with Truth, and Honour lives in Right!

Incontinency.

Thou shalt not commit adultery.

I.

YOUNG, holy Love! It riseth o'er the heart,
Like morn's flush'd glory o'er a vernal sky;
And from its light all things profane depart,
Leaving thoughts pure and aspirations high;
The hallowing influence of Divinity!

Its heart-founts, clear as rills in Eden bowers,
Ruffled alone by Joy's low quivering sigh,

Wake, as they lave their Paradise of flowers,
Weird melodies, else mute, in this wild world of

ours.

II.

Each other's, and all God's! The sacred vow

Blends souls, like meeting streams or mingling rays;
And lapsing life glides by with music's flow,
Till age, like moonlight, silvers o'er their days.
God on their holy home His blessing lays:
And when the bow that o'er their youth was bent-
The mingled glory of their souls-decays,

Its hues are with immortal radiance blent;

They melt, but 'tis in light: Heaven claims the love it lent!

III.

The unholiest spirit from the pit of night
Is that, with loathly leer and loosen'd zone,
Whose shameless wiles the wanton will invite;
The reek of rotten hearts and passion prone,
Whose carrion breath blasts wheresoe'er 'tis blown.
Tortured with flames that sear, but cannot sate;
True love unknowing, by true love unknown;
Loathing its ulcer'd self and monster mate;

It rots in charnel heats, or withers in horrid hate.

IV.

That satyr-sin casts, on the wretch undone,
The muck of each imbruting vice of clay;
Till he is buried from the blessed sun,

And, worm-like, works in earth his blinded way.
It knows no joy, no truth, no trust, no stay;
Its smiles are horror, and its pleasures weep:
From sin to sin it changes with the day;

From woe to woe it stumbles down the steep; From hell to hell it sinks, and finds the lowest deep!

Improbity.

Thou shalt not steal.

I.

THE Law which walls man's labour and its fruit

Is from on High; and holy its design:

To guard the means of life, and the pursuit

Of aims that lift our nature, and refine.

Without the Right that shelters Mine and Thine, Famine would reign, earth's lord: for who would

toil?

No wheaten sheafs would nod, no ploughshares

shine;

And-for men murder where they will not moilRapine would rage, and Want the weaker Want

despoil.1