, . ' - THE VISIONARY; A FRAGMENT. Poems* LADY E. S. WORTLEY. LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMAN. HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON, &c. &c. &c. THE FOLLOWING PAGES ARE INSCRIBED. Mightiest 'mongst Earth's most mighty Chiefs forgive If thy proud name be uttered midst these lays, That name made glorious in a thousand ways ! That name which through all Time must hrightly live Though he, all others should of Fame bereave ! It is thy Doom, who shinest amidst the blaze Of dazzling Deeds to pay that tax which pays Earthly supremacy ! even to receive Tributes from all and Homage without bound Aye ! offerings from the unworthiest hands full oft Thou that art meetly with all honours crowned ! Whose place is with the Immortal Great aloft Yet canst thou more than thy Compeers renowned ! Forgive this Lyre's poor praise, and weak, faint numbers soft? 2030173 ERRATA. Page 22, line 12, for ye Commonwealth, read proud Commonwealth 31, line 3, for dress read dross. 97, line 13, for wild weed-growths, read wild-weed growths. 176, line 3, for appear, read appears. 205, line 8, for it, read them. 207, line 10, for those, read these. 208, line 11, for Peace, read Peace 1 . Of strife and trouble happier far alone, When thought doth take a more melodious tone, And outward things assume a lovelier guise, And more delightful grows the wind's low moan, And Earth seems nearer to the blessed skies, And they stand breathless, mute, as fixed in sweet surprise ! THE VISIONARY: a jFragment, i. In this cold hollow World how many live In a dream- wrought Creation of their own, And slight attention to its vexed scenes give Of strife and trouble happier far alone, When thought doth take a more melodious tone, And outward things assume a lovelier guise, And more delightful grows the wind's low moan, And Earth seems nearer to the blessed skies, And they stand breathless, mute, as fixed in sweet 2 THE VISIONARY. II. Oh ! the triumphal morning comes to such, For ever beautiful for ever new, Dull worldly Care's benumbing cankering touch, Hath nothing with their waking hours to do ; They hear the birds' sweet matins and they view Light's dawning glory and no rankling thorn To pain converts their pleasure, pure and true While thou, resplendent and rejoicing Morn, Art in a thousand ways a thousand shapes new-born ! III. Or when on luminous occupation bent, The thrilling stars make night a glorious scene, Like proud ambassadors from Heaven's court sent, That speak to man in language most serene ; When wondrous Nature doth a holier mien Assume and Thought, on strong wings passes on To that which shall be, even from what hath been And Contemplation pure, and deep and lone, Seeks Worlds more blest, more bright, round the Creator's throne. THE VISIONARY. g IV. They 're tranced and rocked then, on Night's mighty heart, And thence drink Inspiration they are led By their own yearning thoughts to stray apart, And lonely paths they brightly musing tread So deep grows their delight, it pants like dread. But they grow ever stronger to sustain, And revel in the gladness o'er them shed, Even though it almost quickens into pain ; And they would feel it still, again and oft again ! V. They hear a mighty music deep and clear, Where busy careful worldlings can hear nought; Oh ! many a blessed thing they see and hear With truth and love, and power and feeling fraught, Because to Nature's altar they have brought A watchful spirit, and a quick sense borne, Most willing to be led, and to be taught And farthest from their thoughts are doubt and scorn ; Thus doubly blessed to them, come night and joyous morn ! u 2 4 THE VISIONARY. VI. Am I of such? a something I may claim Of fellowship with them yet woe is me * Not altogether can I be the same, Though if I could how gladly ivould I be ! But though I am as fervent and as free Too much of an impatient restlessness ; Nay, oft an aimless dim anxiety Blends with my happier feelings to oppress To o'erpower them oft, when they should most delight and bless ! VII. Yet partly I do claim with those to feel ; Mine is the prescient sense, the passionate dream, The ecstatic thrill that through the frame doth steal, Mixed with a glow that we might almost deem Was breathed in with a noon-sun's molten beam ! So warmly through the soul it seems to spread, Till rosy runs life's smoothly flowing stream ; As though by highest, heavenliest springs 'twas fed, As though undimmed 'twas poured from life's great fountain head ! THE VISIONARY. 5 VIII. Mine is the passion, and at times the power, And in a world of dreams I ofttimes stray ; My path is strewed with many an amaranth flower, For me ambrosial fruits load branch and spray ; I go rejoicing on my haunted way, And still to Nature lend an earnest ear, For all is pure, all true, that she doth say; She draws all love, she banishes all fear, 'Tis well to cling to her, nearer and yet more near. IX. Hark Holy ! Holy ! Holy ! saith the Morn, With all her tones of music and of might, And dare the sluggard sleep, the scoffer scorn, While she so sweetly, brightly doth invite ? Dare they that high and happy summons slight, To vigilant ears so palpable and plain ? They lose they know not what of rare delight, For Morn, emparadising Morn doth reign ; And splendours, witcheries, joys, shine in her shining train. Q THE VISIONARY. X. Hark Holy ! Holy ! Holy ! saith the Morn, And Holy ! Holy ! Holy ! doth reply The awful Night, whom countless worlds adorn That take up that dread chorus through the sky, While all is power and love and harmony ; And blest with noblest bliss how truly blessed ! Are those who with Devotion's rapturous sigh, Join in the solemn strain with tranquil breast ; Proud to confess the zeal saints, angels have confessed ! XL List ! Holy ! Holy ! Holy ! saith the Morn, Hark ! 'tis the lark's song ! free and far he skims Her paths of flame on rapid pinions borne, Till distance dwindles that slight form, and dims His song divine is like the Seraphims' A strain that 's not of knowledge, but of love ! And O ! his joyous and exuberant hymns The bosom meltingly and sweetly move To join him in his rites, his tuneful rites above ! THE VISIONARY. 7 XII. Those glad hymns many a heart shall more dispose To pious thoughts than thousand homilies ; Who, all against them can his bosom close, What time resound their exquisite harmonies ? Unconsciously we lift adoring eyes Unconsciously with kindred fires we glow We breathe our souls in prayer unto the skies, Almost forgetful of the world below, At least forgetful all, of its vile cares and woe ! XIII. How oft when Night's great reign was spread o'er all In Youth's glad dawn of life, entranced I stood ; Nor could its gloom, its loneliness appal, But bright emotions in a glowing flood Shook my soul's depths O! 'twas a rapturous mood I gazed on those blest worlds so proud, so fair, And banquetted on that ambrosial food, Which young Imagination doth prepare For her fond votaries true, who her sweet fetters wear. 8 THE VISIONARY. XIV. I sphered and I unsphered my thoughts in joy, Nor from th' enchanted cup one drop did spill My proud enjoyment then had no alloy I sphered and I unsphered my thoughts at will, Now to some dazzling world as to fulfil Most glorious destinies I, dreaming, passed ; Now in some soft, mild planet, calm and still Awhile remained then journeying far and fast, Back to my native earth, returned in peace at last ! XV. I sphered and I unsphered my thoughts in joy Now Fancy bore me in her volant car (Ah ! pleasure, too unlike earth's bliss to cloy), To some particular and selected star ; The loveliest among those which loveliest are, A sun 'midst suns, where triumphed beings bright As their most dazzling home ; where nought could mar, Nor mock my bliss where nought could blunt, nor blight My ecstasies divine that gathered still fresh might ! THE VISIONARY. J) XVI. Methought to my charmed eyes were then laid bare, All, all the secret principles of things And I beheld, unshrinking, then and there The finest workings of their farthest springs; The veil which nature o'er her mystery flings Withdrawn, appeared to leave unchecked my glance, Assuaging, for awhile, the goading stings Of sleepless Curiosity in trance Sublime while she forbore, to cry " On ! On! advance!" XVII. I sphered and I unsphered my thoughts at will None that ne'er felt, ere dreamt of such delight ! The soul mounts Nature like a throne ; and still Feels proud increase of joy and strength and might; Still communing with the heavens, the winds, the night, The world of worlds that lies spread proudly round, While thus she bursts away on her far flight; While thus she soars where is no bar nor bound, And leaves fear, trouble, care, on their own earthly ground ! 10 THE VISIONARY. XVIII. But 'twas Imagination's doing all ! Yet, though not truth, it looked as bright and clear ! And though in fact still frowned the encircling wall, Spread thick the impervious veil thatdream wasdear! 'Twas a foretaste of that which must be near, When earth's poor span and bounded field 's resigned, When Truth, for the first time, shall full appear No more with error witheringly entwined, For that on earth 'twas so; then shall the sagest find ! XIX. Imagination ! thou 'rt for ever known Youth's fairest of possessions, and belongs To thee the wand ! to thee belong the throne, The victory and the feast ! thy paean songs (Which if she scorns proud Reason harshly wrongs) Are Wisdom's words to music charmed by Love, Thou'rt framed of wings, and eyes, and tuneful tongues, Whose sweet soliloquies thy zeal improve The while those eyes pierce all, through which those swift wings rove ! THE VISIONARY. ] | XX. Oh ! when the quiet seal of middle age Is stamped upon my brow and manhood's prime Is overpast, should I not seek to assuage My Soul with contemplations less sublime But far more solid, and root out in time These wild hallucinations of the brain, And dwell in spirit in a soberer clime, And exile Fancy and her motley train, And other quests pursue; haply not all in vain ! XXI. Yet if these dear illusions were expelled For sordid interests, and for worldly cares, These pleasures crushed, those glad excitements quelled, With all their quickening beams, their freshening airs But for the fruit the World's rank vineyard bears, But for its boasted vanities abhorred, Indignantly my swelling Soul prepares To scorn the exchange, oh ! let them be restored, Those free proud rapturous dreams, loved cherished and deplored ! 12 THE VISIONARY. XXII. Are there in this strange world no vainer dreams, No wild illusions, guiltier far than mine ? Mark where the Statesman weaves his web, and deems The public weal doth with his projects twine, Yet oftener to his own good doth incline ; The Conqueror too, who ruins with one stroke A land's glad hope, and bids a nation pine, Doth he not through a strange false medium look, And deem he nobly doth, Earth's paths with dead to choke ? XXIII. And the Freethinker, who is but bent to undo Whate'er hath claimed Mankind's respect before, And thinks his theory only can be true, Though rank it be, and rotten at the core For the world's gain, he dreams 't is, he doth pore Over his midnight lamp ; if he succeeds, Many may haply his vain skill deplore, Propped on Philosophy's frail feeble reeds, And weakened in their faith in best and noblest creeds. THE VISIONARY. 13 XXIV. My fancies can to others do no harm, Whate'er they to myself perchance may do ; And there 's in them a soft redeeming charm, That wins me to them ever fair and new ; Bright cheats and smiling mischiefs, though 't is true They may be yet in sooth, their very stings Are painless in compare with thorns that strew Life's worldlier path ; thorns red Ambition brings Or love, or trust too firm in Earth's real solid things. XXV. Oh ! World ! oh ! Man ! supremely, greatly blest, Who little know of ye untaught untried, Still the most fortunate who know the least ! But if such ignorance should be denied, Let, let the bitter knowledge then be wide Wide, clear and deep ! enough to teach them well To avoid the thousand rocks that lurking hide Their pointed perils wheresoe'er they swell The human tides smoothed o'er, but fatal, false, and fell! 14 THE VISIONARY. XXVI. Oh ! World ! World ; as thy mightiest Master* said, When even he found thee hard to melt or move When even he almost bowed his haughty head Beneath thy yoke thy treacheries doom'd to prove ! "World! World!" as he exclaimed that earthborn Jove, When his fierce lip with ire impatient curled, When vainly 'gainst opposing Fate he strove And from the heights of boundless triumph hurled Arraigned, denounced, rebuked his God his Slave his World ! XXVII. Disdain, distrust, defiance, hatred, grief, Spoke there ! the schemes he wrought, the plans he wove, Must they thwart him ? that King-compelling Chief ! Oh ! had he known himself thus to reprove ! World ! World 1 how happy he whose mind's above Thy changes and thy strife ! who doth not take His hints from thee for they who have had thy Love, Thy Honours, and thy Praises, most awake, Are, or shall be, to all, which these must worthless make ! * Napoleon. THE VISIONARY. ] 5 XXVIII. Yes ! happy, happiest he whose chosen path Is far from all thy emptiness and noise Far from thy variable uproar and wrath. Who prizes not thy solemn shows and toys, But breathes untroubled breath, reaps cloudless joys, Whose sweet continuance not alone depends On thy capricious whim not him annoys The unloving look which Fortune on him bends, Heaven, Nature, Conscience, Truth, and Feeling are his friends! XXIX. And yet but few exist, who have not known, Sooner or later known or more or less Thine influence forced thy tyrannous power to own ! And doomed to mould their mimic happiness After thy laws. Oh ! impotent to bless That wretched shade of Pleasure, which would ape Another shade ! 'tis but refined distress, While, closely they must measure it and shape, By thy fixed standards else, none shall thy sentence 'scape ! ] 6 THE VISIONARY. XXX. They may not seek to improve, nor vary \vhat ! Shall Man dare to be happy his own way ? Shall he affect to mark out his own lot ? No ! in the World all rule and all obey A common slavery as a common sway ! Resistance and remonstrance were but vain, The strict exacted tribute all must pay Society, that boundless pest and bane That Juggernaut grinds all, beneath her ponderous wain ! XXXI. That treacherous Janus-Juggernaut that seems To proffer Peace, while she is revolving War, Whose kindliest smile with deadliest malice teems, Whose wide waved hundred arms reach near and far ; She urges yield ! or bleed beneath her car, Your glowing feelings you must put to school Be of a piece with all, and on a par, Be wise by pattern, and be blest by rule, Or thou 'rt confessed indeed, a madman and a fool ! THE VISIONARY. 17 XXXII. Indeed a Madman if to choose thou 'rt free, And still wilt herd with that harsh World's mad train, Not formed to sympathize or to agree With her or hers, nor taught to forge nor feign Resemblance ! to be sober thus and sane Is phrenzy where all frantic are the same, Shall not the monster Many rule and reign ? Shall not the wild flock fall upon the tame ? Shall not the myriad Mad crush the sane few's weak claim? XXXIII. Not any right canst thou have to complain, If thou indeed art unconstrained and free, Yet in the Vortex choosest to remain Would'st thou stand still ? so thou may'st giddier be Ten thousand wild contortions thou shalt see Which thou might'st mark not, bearing too thy share, But watching, in cold blood, the Insanity Of others may plunge thee in worse despair One dizzying dreadful doubt of Right Worth Truth beware ! THE VISIONARY. XXXIV. 'T is not alone that XXXV. All must endure the yoke the rod must kiss, Taste, Custom, Circumstance, Opinion these Rule all if one would build some tower of bliss, Which he would not have bowed to every breeze Of their vile variance dares he hope for ease? Shall not the World, defied, denied, destroy? And while with Worldly judgments not agrees His daring Soul, shall these not blunt his joy? Shall he not reck and rue, Man's hate can bring annoy ? THE VISIONARY. ]9 XXXVI. Oh ! very different would this World be found, If men were bent each other still to assist, In lieu of hindering ever that on ground Of vantage they themselves may high i' the list Shine blazoned ; as though each did but exist For Self and Self-advancement 't is even so They gracious Nature's pure intentions twist, But mixed together to work mutual woe; Is this as it should be ? must it be thus below ? XXXVII. Hail ! beatific Nature ! thou indeed, Art ever Comforter, and ever Friend ! Thou turn'st not from us in our bitter need, When our Souls droop our burthened shoulders bend- But gentlest Consolations know'st to send Into our inmost hearts yet oft we turn From thee, dull ingrates ! all our souls to lend To the false hollow World, and still to yearn For its inconstant joys, that leave us oft to mourn ! c2 20 THE VISIONARY. XXXVIII. Even now from Contemplations vain and keen Fatiguing to the thoughts, to apostrophize Thee, thee I turn thee now in varied scene, Appealing to my sense ! Earth, Air, and Skies Now to my gladdened and enlightened eyes A charm, a power, a living Glory wear, That Morning lends, with her fresh blooming dyes ; Oh ! Nature, thou canst banish gloom and care, Thou only, ever, found beneficent and fair ! XXXIX. Go forth ! for Morning comes ! in all her pride, And all her grace, Go forth, for welcomed thou Shalt be by Nature, Man's half Deified, Who knows how to enjoy with fair-smoothed brow And calmed heart such hours, she seems to avow Her Lord ! his Pageantry his Festival She makes her own, and while we onward plough Our way, 't is well to listen to her call, And drink that milk of love she gives instead of gall! THE VISIONARY. 21 XL. Ever I joyed to hold communion calm With her Yea ! ever 't was my Soul's delight, For still that Soul had need of her deep balm, And I, her own, still kept her in my sight I loved to watch the old solemn royal Night That wraps her Purple round the Stars august, As though she called them Children, and i' the might Of love maternal far from these would thrust All Evil and still win, those treasures to her trust ! XLI. I loved the Sea, whose every wave becomes A mirror of the Firmament and Spheres ; Do ye, oh ! Stars ! write there the impending dooms Of men and nations for that the unborn years Glanced from your rays, the superstitious fears And phantasies of dreaming Sages old Taught them to think and yet despite the sneers Of Reason more matured, can we behold Your Godlike aspects bright, nor own an awe untold. 22 THE VISIONARY. XLII. Say, were not that dread Main a fitting page For such divine transcription, such proud theme ? Unsullied and unchanged from age to age ! Doth it not almost seem itself to teem With strange oracular hints, doth it not seem With all its watery tongues to murmur deep Warnings and prophesies ? but ah ! ye dream No more, ye Sages, wrapt in leaden sleep And minds of sapience now, a different creed they keep ! XLIII. Yet sometimes when our soaring spirits yearn For nobler things for loftier Destinies, To ye ye* Commonwealth of Suns ! we turn, ,/\ That look unto our vision-haunted eyes Almost a Commonwealth of Deities ! Then the wish ushers in the fond belief, We dare to think in those World-peopled Skies Our fates, claims, triumphs, trials, joy or grief Are cared for, nay that these are Heaven's first care and chief ! THE VISIONARY. 23 XLIV. The very thought that what on Earth is done Can those high Worlds affect, must make us feel Our glorious Immortality begun, What ! do those shape our destinies and seal, What ! are they conscious of our Woe and Weal, Those Heavens in Heaven ! those Giant hosts in space, Do those controul our Sympathies, and deal Our Fortunes and speak of us in their place, And shall we, can we, flag on Life's momentous race ? XLV. Perhaps 't was fancy, folly, wild and vain, A daring and presumptuous phantasy, A vapoury coinage of the Enthusiast's brain, A bold Encroachment on the o'er-arching Sky But 't was a kingly weakness and to sigh, Smit by such pure ambition, might not bring Heaven's vengeance on the Soul, free, proud, and high; No ! we might imp our Spirit's undipped wing For such flights unreproved and ever soar and spring ! 24 THE VISIONARY. XLV1. 'T was Fancy, Folly, Phrenzy what you will But oft such glimmerings of a baseless thought Play o'er the Soul warm, quick and powerful still ; And if for Truth we 've duly searched and sought Have we not still invariably been taught Through all great Nature's thronged Immensity Through all things by the Almighty Maker wrought, Sympathy Unity Analogy Association clear Connexion close to see ? XLVII. Nothing, in Nature Nothing is alone, One fine electric chain doth quickening run Through all things lengthening from the Eternal's throne, All forms one mighty Whole distinct are none Kindred are Worm and World the Mote and Sun, The least link lost might make Heaven's dread Worlds start Forth from their Orbits ruined and undone ; And man dreams all ev'n of himself a part, Feeling the hidden God that breathes about his heart ! THE VISIONARY. ^5 XLVIII. Say, is 't impossible that even with ours, Those Worlds may feel and be perchance endued Unconsciously, with strange prophetic Powers ; And when Dismay doth o'er Earth's Nations brood, When Revolutions spread, and broil and feud, And Tribulations shake her Empires wide ; 'T is haply too that changes dire intrude 'Mongst those bright Sister Realms of might and pride, For closer than we think all yet may be allied ! XLIX. Like mighty members of one glorious Frame, Fraughtwith one Feeling filled with one great Soul, Each as it wejre, another and the same, The harmonious part of an harmonious whole! Yea ! though they seem distinct, detached, to roll In lofty Independence proudly lone, That Hand which could each vast circumference bowl Into the Deep of Space, may chain each one In sympathetic bonds, that shall not be undone ! 26 THE VISIONARY. L. Nature ! great Soother of my Spirit's cares, When aught perplexes me, to thee I turn, Well for thy heart it is thy peace that shares, Well for the eye that can thy worth discern ; 'T is from the lilies of the field we learn Not to disquiet us and from those Stars, To dwell with all in Harmony nor spurn Our fellows in Life's march no blood-stain'd Wars Are brewed up there nor worse poor vile, vain, civil jars ! LI. Our inner-being shapes itself serene, And half-unconsciously to thee ; we grow More than spectators of thy beauteous Scene (The happiest hours are such we pass below !) Parcels and portions of Thee and we glow With feelings most intense yet most unblamed, While our Life's blood doth deeply sweetly flow In our calmed veins we seemed renewed, and framed Of Elements more pure, in mould and heart reclaimed ! THE VISIONARY. 27 LIL And this, most mighty Mother ! is thy work, And yet mid crowds how oft we choose to stay, Where no bright lesson doth serenely lurk, At every instant to illume our way But our checked Souls sink weltering in their clay ; Where if in something different from the rest, Trembling, lest we such difference should betray, We dungeon down our quick thoughts in our breast, To fit ourselves to be their comrade and their guest ! LIII. Thus bowed beneath a double Tyranny, Theirs and our own for still those thoughts rebel, And, like the Spartan boy while none can see, We are torn by that, which we have concealed too well, Yet deign nor dare our heavy case to tell, But wear the mask of carelessness and mirth, Martyrs of . secret tortures, fierce and fell, Victims of Vanity, fast chained to Earth, Though long since it hath lost, for us its charms and worth ! 28 THE VISIONARY. LIV. * Oli ! what a joy upon yon Sea sublime, With lingerings of uncloyed delight to look, Great Image of Eternity and Time ! Whose waves type years, but whose huge vastness took Heaven's face in from the first ! dread Sea ! dost brook From yon proud ship upon her gallant march Commandment, or defiance, or rebuke ? The Firmaments bend o'er her in bright arch ! Let Fancy's dreaming eye, raised there, for auguries search. LV. 'T is sunny, cloudless all ! No ! one light speck Frowns in the Horizon, doth it hold the Storm ? And shall that Storm pour down on thy thronged deck, Thee to defeat, destroy, or to deform ? Alas ! when with high hopes elate and warm We start on Life's strange march, such shining roof May seem above us bent, where sunbeams swarm While darkness and dismay keep far aloof Yet one slight cloud may lower, to give our pride reproof ! * Written by the Sea-side. THE VISIONARY. <29 LVI. 'T is thus Events most trivial, weak, and slight, Come laden with our fates untoward and dark, We ne'er avoided them, though full in sight, For nought of threatening might we there remark ; Dread Conflagrations spread from smouldering spark Springs from beginnings small, most dire mischance The Storm that 's destined to o'erwhelm our bark, May sleep above us in a cloudy trance Till it at length burst forth, in dread predominance. LVII. Light Accidents o'ercome us by surprise And mock us, who had striven with thoughtful care To shape the Future to our phantasies ; We had wrought for years our projects meltinair And moments, moments oft our dooms prepare Thyself, seek, if thou canst, then to defend From instantaneous casualties ! Still bear These things in mind nor all too fondly tend On far wide-reaching hopes, that oft find sudden end ! 30 THE VISIONARY. LVIII. Oh ! if we are wronged by Fortune, 't is at least A consolation, or should be, to view What things become her Favourites of her feast Partaking as it were their merits due Who have carved their way opposing barriers through Who bask them in her smiles unchangingly Yea, well to observe her choice elected few And those who with thyself contemned may be, If that consoles thee not, then, then, I pity thee ! LIX. How oft, hath she adopted for her own Her own spoiled children the low-souled and mean, And all her gilded gaudes about them thrown, Invested them with all her glittering sheen Who hath lived long in this wild World nor seen Her vile injustice ? who if good and wise Hath learned not, firm and steadfastly serene, Herself and her vain favourites to despise, Pitying the Winners oft nor coveting the prize ! THE VISIONARY. 31 LX. Matter it is to make a Stoic laugh To watch those wretched puppets strut and prate, Those things of dust and dr^ss and clay and chaff Propped up by freakish Fortune and blind Fate ! Lo ! Emptiness and Nothingness in State ! These foist their dull opinions on the deep But misled mind of Man that mind shall date Evil from the hour they caught it in its sleep Aye matter 't is in sooth to make Fiends laugh or weep ! LXI. Look on them in their insignificance ! Authority into their hands consigned But a bald meanness in their sidelong glance Fatuity and falsehood in their mind ! There are, who will indulgently be blind To their dull foibles, and there are who deign Shape their own judgments by the shapeless kind Of theirs, and then aloud they dare complain And cry that Man is wronged and his high Hopes are vain ! 32 THE VISIONARY. LXII. Oh ! Fortune ! thou hast ne'er flattered me nor raised, And I have ne'er followed thee for thine own sake My hope was to be loved and to be praised In earlier days, ere grief my soul could shake Such hopes I find were bubbles let them break ! My fault and folly 't is or 't was, Oh ! most Should I have felt this had thy fearful Snake Remorse, been gendered 'mid their growth then crossed, We have no resource within, and so are doubly lost ! LXIII. But not thus was my object, or my aim Parent of Guilt but innocent as strong Let worldly Censors harshly scorn and blame Even as they will could such sweet hopes be wrong? They are lost, but to my lonely thoughts belong An independence and a freshness still That never can remain when once among, Those thoughts, that deadly Snake doth wind at will, Poisoning them ev'n as may, vile weeds some close- choaked rill ! THE VISIONARY. 33 LXIV. Ev'n if our friends desert us, let us think The Shame and the remorse shall be their own ! Who could from their own fond professions shrink ! Themselves, of us, they have thus unworthy shown, Since if inconstant and estranged they have grown, Not from our fault then we may well be sure That while we loved them, for themselves alone 'Twas interest took in them the semblance pure And guise of Friendship so, our grief should find its cure ! LXV. And if indeed we miss them from our side When from our eyes, Misfortune harshly draws Griefs blistering tear, they on whom we relied For aid for comfort this should make us pause Should teach us to scorn those who spurn thy laws Blest Friendship ! Yea ! if they have fallen away From their proclaimed adhesion, without cause Then let us raise our drooping heads and say " The Sorrow and the Shame be theirs who could betray !" 34 THE VISIONARY. LXVI. There are so soft of Nature, and so deep In Feeling, that they will not, cannot, bring Themselves to view things thus, they groan and weep But struggle not, nor ever strive to wring The Affliction from their Soul, Alas ! they fling Their strength away in poisoning more the dart That's poisoning them, and their deep Being's spring All tears those Arethusas of the Heart In faint Dejection melt, unsolaced and apart ! LXVII. Could they arise and see their fond mistake How would they gladly arm themselves with Scorn But thenfew eyes would weep few hearts would break, - And few would winder cheerless and forlorn For what hath Life to give what fruits adorn Its tree, worth half the toils we stoop to accord ? Dreams lighter than the exhaling mists of Morn Are prospects vain of bliss let Peace be stored Deep in your heart of hearts on Earth Miss is a word ! THE VISIONARY. 35 LXVIII. Why do we writhe in a perplexed unrest And lay not balm, but gall unto our soul, And feed ten thousand adders in our breast Lest all too smooth Life's torrent-stream should roll ? Why do we strive to embitter its wide whole, And discontented with our sorrow's store Seek to increase it ever till the Knoll Sounds in our ears and we must seek that Shore Where joy or grief must be, our own for evermore ! LXIX. Do we not madden in a Calenture Of feeling most diseased ? as though we came From some far Heavenly Land, bright, glorious, pure ? Such Beauty doth our Fancy it* its flame Bestow on Life's rough waves ! even thus we frame The Paradise we yearn for and thus throw Ourselves midst those fierce billows in fond aim For that which is not ! and so court our woe And all too late the Truth and the Delusion know ! 36 THE VISIONARY. LXX. Fearful Adversity ! whatever shape Thou 'st skilled to take, at least thou teachest much And none may hope from thy dread Scourge to escape ; How many that never deigned their pangs to avouch Have tired all Suffering out ! yet could not crouch And would not shrink, but braved the thronging ills They could stand firm to bear Praise be to such ! Such noble Courage, Duty's law fulfils, And more than Victory waits, on such unflinching Wills ! LXXI. All well might act thus, who would pause to think What are the Inflictions and inflicted why ! Who would reflect how soon they '11 reach the brink Of Life's rough precipice-bounded path and die ! How many mourn Lo ! while they sit and sigh The Grief they weep o'er 's dwindling to a shade ! Moments go hurrying past and long years fly While they are fools of their vain fondness made While they have in Mourning Robes, themselves by choice arrayed. THE VISIONARY. 37 LXXII. Pitying themselves declining all relief They study Sorrow's mummery and grimace- Though they 've survived their real and proper grief Of whose original form remains no trace A Phantom 't is, they grasp in their Embrace A Shade The Substance perished in the Past ! And so they close Life's great eventful race, Tenacious but of Suffering to the last Extracting from its cup each drop of bitterest taste ! LXX1II. We make our food of poison and surprised We are that we should suffer let it go All that we 've coveted or sought or prized Or soon or late shall cost us care and woe. It is to be it shall it must be so And we must wait for our Deliverance From our worst foes ourselves for still below Men do their trials and their pains enhance By every possible means, and make their crutch a lance ! 38 THE VISIONARY. LXXIV. Why for ourselves do we unwearied toil To frame the strong and adamantine band To wreathe the closely-clasping numbing coil- Why choose to linger, fettered foot and hand ? Why for ourselves have we for ever planned Restraints forbidding us to freely move Trembling we stir or totteringly we stand So cramped with Selfish motives let the Dove The Stork teach better things and lesson us in Love ! LXXV. Selfishness is our bane hath it been mine ? No ! no ! not wholly Selfishness it was Love's breath did make my being half-divine In days now gone for ever and alas ! When that dear dream did with its sweetness pass I was more severed from my fellows all Than Man should be, while in the World's great mass Of Being subject to one selfsame thrall With all that round him crowd intent to climb or crawl ! THE VISIONARY. 39 LXXVI. 'T is well to be so severed if 't is not Too much and widely Man 's too apt to make His fellow man his judge, and of his Lot The Mover and Controller nor for the sake Of Heaven and Heavenly Hopes, to watch and wake, But still, preferment from Man's hand to gain Advantage and advancement, that must slake His thirst for fame or lucre if the chain In some links loosened be, it shall not be in vain ! LXXVII. There are who can almost abstract their hearts From the dull business of this work-day Earth, And even 'midst all its toils, broils, snares and arts Keep still unfettered in their glowing worth Their best Emotions ; So 'mongst all the dearth, The nothingness and noise, they pass along Bless'd by the noblest gift bestowed by birth, The faculty of feeling deep, bright, strong Themselves their thoughts their own even in the o'erpowering throng ! 40 THE VISIONARY. LXXVIII. But others and the larger number much Become the prey of its infection vile, And poisoned are, by its dread venomed touch ! While numbed by its dire basilisk-eye's cold smile And bound and crushed by its culebra* coil, They grow Nonentities and still the more They lose all claim to Honour's flattering style The more do they require it and deplore, If merited Contempt, should o'er them fiercely pour ! LXX1X. Save me from this ! whate'er hath Nature's hand, Made me, so let me be ! I would not turn With every touch of Fortune's fickle wand But hold my Soul unchanged, though kind or stern This hollow World should seem nor let me yearn For its vain pleasures varying yet the same In Emptiness ! No ! from whatever Urn, The dark or bright, my cup be filled, I claim Proud Independence still that stoops not to false shame ! * Boa- Constrictor. THE VISIONARY. 41 LXXX. Is there a sadder or more sickening sight, Than to see one, who hath no thought beyond This wretched world his Worship and Delight Chasing its phantoms desperately fond, Fulfilling to the last its rigourous bond ! One who hath sought but its precarious good, Its harsh laws studied, and its vile tasks conned And ceaselessly hath watched it worshipped wooed, To each varying vain caprice, varying his servile mood ! LXXXI. How oft his fond zeal its own end defeats ! He would be first among his fellows found, Yet scarce dares move, lest frowns, or that which meets Ambition, with a withering check, to bound, Its haughty flight, harsh Ridicule should sound In his pained ears, and so he longs, yet dreads To climb his hopes his Aspirations drowned In abject doubt and deference till to shreds Fall all his fair-woven Schemes and Darkness round him spreads ! 42 THE VISIONARY. LXXXII. Detested Mediocrity results, From thence with stagnant soul and frigid mind ! Palmy Ambition its plumed glory moults. And fiery zeal lies cabinned and confined With gall, ice, lead, to embitter, numb, and bind ! The immortal Spirit drags its weary way, Till Death, or Child-changed age severely kind, Ends its regrets and sufferings in the clay Since consciousness in Eld, oft sinks as its first prey. LXXXIII. Not yet not yet, Oh ! cruel World ! hast forked Thy deadly Lightnings through my soul not yet, Hast in my Spirit Alteration worked Warped from what 't was, and 't would be ! may'st thou set, Star of my destiny ! without the let Of poisonous Exhalations to obstruct, Thy beams though pale and few they may forget Their early brightness I have willingly plucked On Earth but wholesome plants, and their pure nectar sucked ! THE V1SIONAUY. 43 LXXXIV. My heart 't is true at times hath gone astray, In deadliness of aching for I 've known, The debt of suffering to harsh Life to pay And paid it unsupported and alone, Till my Soul one dark sacrifice had grown But then came Mercy to staunch every wound ! And Pain's black vulture-brood at length hath flown And Peace, calm golden Peace my Soul hath found, And Gratitude my mind, shall cherish without bound ! LXXXV. Yes ! I have suffered and let no Man judge What others' griefs and trials may have been, Some may be found to doubt, dodge, droil, and drudge In this dull drudging World but bright and keen Some Natures cannot keep the fitting mean, But rush upon Excess ! Woe, woe to them, Woe woe to all who on Life's troubled scene Are wanting in that blunt, cold, worldly phlegm, Which sole enables men, Earth's various tides to stem ! 44 THE VISIONARY. LXXXVI. LXXXVII. We are distracted from each other now, My once Beloved ! and yet at times I deem, Our Souls converse mine own once more art thou- But then the pitiless currents of Life's stream, Bear us afar Still that one little beam Long, long lights up my course, I will not sink, But stir up those sweet ashes of a Dream, To warm and cheer me, and will fondly think, There is yet between our Souls, a rivet and a link. THE VISIONARY. 45 LXXXVIII. That honey-drop shall bless my bitter cup Haply far more than floods of nectar may Theirs, who too unregardfully drink up Their dealt draughts of Life's stream, I cannot pay Homage to many Shrines, but I can play Calmly my fond and faithful part, and snatch Real pleasure from those blossoms of a day, Love, Friendship, Hope, Delight, they which attach To Earth, yet teach the while, that Earth Heaven's hues to catch ! LXXXIX. We are distracted from each other now Oh ! could I teach another, but to love As I have loved then with far smoother brow Along my briary pathway I might rove, Since I should know, that thou at least shouldest prove What a divinest blessing Life may find Love Love immortal and that thou should'st move Scatheless along a deep, deep heart and mind 'Twixt thee and every storm, and shock of Fate Unkind. 46 THE VISIONARY. xc. Is 't not a perilous way we have to tread With dangers and with sorrows compassed round ? Bright starry glories beam out overhead But thorns and ashes every step surround And most inconstant is the shifting ground, Yet there is for our hand a mighty staff That shall support us there have yet been found Immortal treasures near not dust nor chaff, And fountains of which we, may all securely quaff. XCI. Alas ! we catch at straws and grasp them fast Who have the Rock of all Defence at hand, It hath been so for ever in the Past, And will be so while Time doth still expand His awful wings we 've plotted and we Ve planned And been our hardest Taskmasters to ourselves, We 've built our fond frail Edifice on sand Wev'e steered our bark 'gainst black Destruction's shelves We 've fallen in that dank pit, our own Corruption delves ! THE VISIONARY. 47 XCII. Dull Vanities of Life ! how can ye hold Even for a moment Souls for Heaven designed Souls cast and fashioned in immortal mould How can ye charm down an aspiring mind, And file, and clip, and damp, and clog, and bind The Thoughts, the Imaginings that should be free As Light, or Flame, or Ocean, or the Wind ? Dull Vanities of Life ! that ye should be Perchance the bars accursed, to a blest Eternity. XCIII. Oh ! to renounce those Vanities forswear Those follies ! and to calm the restless Soul And shut those avenues to long Despair While moments pile themselves to years and roll The Stars and Worlds while the Universe's whole Proceeds and progresses ! this this were well, Then should we drain not Sorrow's tragic bowl, Nor should the Soul with sick impatience swell, Nor in a vain suspense, unsoothed, unsettled, dwell ! 48 THE VISIONARY. XCIV. To struggle on without one blessed Hope To torch us on our long and dreary way With very Spirit-sickness bowed to droop And dread the rising of another day Save 't is upon our ashes this I say Is Misery I have known it to have known Perhaps is well it weans us from the clay, Teacheth us Earth's vain Influence to disown To seek far brighter realms and mansions for our own ! xcv. Oh ! heavy World ! how many bowed and bent Have courted still thy load though still increased While their presumption grows their punishment Their worst of terrors, 't is to be released And so they stumble on the wiser beast Is glad to miss his burthen while they hug Theirs ever more and more, till all hath ceased And their deep grave in Mother Earth is dug And they are nestled close with kindred Worm and Slug ! THE VISIONARY. 49 XCVI. Thou heavy heavy World ! where Time doth wield His terrible scythe in triumph and in pride And ever rests the master of the field And priceless treasure doth in dim vaults hide ^He treads on Capital cities and they glide Into a pit of darkness he waves high His Sceptre-scythe and he doth glorying ride On the bowed necks of Empires while Years fly, Creeds, Codes, arid Systems cease tongues fail and mortals die ! XCVII. And Thought the Imperial Faculty of man Is filed, and held in adamantine bands, And though at times it foils the unrighteous clan Of Persecutors and with just demands Acceded to, hath made the listening Lands Record its triumphs and accomplish'd things Sublime and Wond'rous yet on adverse Strands Oft wrecked the hytena Prejudice springs, clings, And fastens to it still, and tears and gripes and wrings. 50 THE VISIONARY XCVIII. Stars of the Night ! when in sad sleeplessness I've watched your beams how seemed ye to reprove A Mortal's Sorrow ye ! that proudly press On your immortal race like things of Love, Of Loveliness and Duty ! Worlds above ! Men look on ye, then turn away to pour Their souls on some all idle aim they move Earth Earth and Heaven for this their bosom's core Is still disquieted for what ? let them explore ! XCIX. Stars of the Night ! when of the Past I think Time, Death, Change, Distance, at your view take flight Ye Pilgrims of the Eternity how sink Our measurements of months and years in sight Of ye ! I greet ye with intense delight ! If these were not would not quick Minds and deep Imagine such things in their innate might ? And take in thought far, far, a flashing leap O'er the outstretched Space to pierce to these with these to sweep ! THE VISIONARY. 51 C. The Soul hath its own grand Necessities ! August Necessities and glorious Wants ! From Earth it breaks away and seeks the Skies And for newhopes, new Worlds, new Triumphs pants Proudest and princeliest of all Mendicants, With little less than all things satisfied High Heaven in those sublime Desires ev'n grants A fund of royal riches ! and allied, Through these to all that's great, Man doth on Earth abide. CI. Oft when at Midnight's deep still solemn hour I ponder lone they whom I have loved and lost Come back on me in beauty and in power, And 'twixt regret and hope my Soul is toss'd They live ! I feel they live ! though a dread Host Of Worlds may sunder us but in the Strife Of this World's occupations I feel most Their Silence on my Soul with miseries rife Tlteir Memory on my Hope their Death on in my Life ! E2 52 THE VISIONARY. GIL There then there is nor room nor time to think, We almost feel by rote ! such feelings lack All sense of inborn solace and they drink A wine of their mixed blood and tears, black, black And bitter, who on lonely desolate track Move lorn mid crowds, their veins run tears, weeps blood Their brain their thoughts upon themselves forced back Grow sufferings and make suffer until Good Too oft their Evil proves warped to their morbid mood. THE VISIONARY. CANTO II. i. The wavering reek of mortal breath may not Or serve to aggrandize or to blight my name ; Humble and most sequestered is my lot Yet something I demand far more than Fame, That something may be mine, for my calm claim Is just and strong, the prayers I have preferred (Still I have played an unambitious game) Shall surely be, by Heavenly Mercy heard, Let me not by vain doubts, be shaken now nor stirred. 54 THE VISIONARY. II. Yet who, in this world, loves feels, hopes admires Nor owns at times a faultering and a fear, A sinking and a smothering of the fires, That most could animate and brightly cheer ? Their path no more shows smooth or straight or clear, A cloud of dim and ill-defined distress Heavy and lowering dull, and dense and drear, Like a cold wintry fog doth all oppress, Who hath e'er seen unveiled the Phantasm, Happiness ? III. All all the fardel and the canker nay, Haply the worldly sordor too, have borne (That sordor of vile Selfishness which they Whose Souls are noble quickly thrust with Scorn Aside) but so Humanity must mourn Mortality's its nature and its name, And still the immortal- mortal's inly torn With adverse feelings till the Air's ice and flame, The Heavens are lead the Earth, one huge hard chill stony frame. THE VISIONARY. 55 IV. Humanity must mourn too oft the best Mourn most, for not in this dark Life is 't good To bear a kindly or a generous breast A Noble or an Elevated mood The cold, the narrow-minded oft have stood, When the excellent and kind have bit the dust, And inwardly shed their heart's own dearest blood Most fatal shedding from the deadly thrust Of Sorrow's poisoned darts, that in the unhealed wounds rust V. The spreading deepening wounds they will not close, They have a deadly life, all, all, their own And oft they bleed afresh at sudden blows Unconsciously inflicted since not shown, They are not suspected ! not avowed not known ! Alas ! how many may we daily meet, Who bleed in secret thus, and inly groan, That hide their Sorrow in its veiled retreat Their griefs - that prisoned thus, through brain and bosom eat! 56 THE VISIONARY. VI. Perchance, the most terrific tasks are still Performed in silence and the World knows nouV 1 Of their attempts and struggles, who with will Inflexible and patient zeal have wrought With hidden powers nor hath it loudly brought Their names to honour, nor its favours poured On their deserving heads nor ever sought To aid them, they, who fight not with the sword, Whose brows no wreaths adorn whose deeds no Scrolls record. VII. Yet the most stubborn and the hardest fight, Hath it been theirs to wage, deep deep in the Core Of their own hearts as in the secret night, And no applause- -no loud tumultuous roar Of praise hath these encouraged ! but the more They have girded up their Spirits to press on, And do without that Glory which their War Leaves far behind in sooth, upheld by none They their hard strife maintained, till was all nobly won ! THE VISIONARY. 57 VIII. Still the achievements of the just and sage, Even of the very gentlest of the Good, Although inscribed upon no earthly page Are blazoned forth where Angels o'er them brood In Admiration all unstained by blood As Earth's proud Conquerors are nor clouded round By discord and dispute, as those who have stood Founders of Sects, Schools, Systems these are found Blameless, and worthy of that Fame which knows no bound. IX. The Fame in Heaven attained which at the last Shall honour bring to those who had rebuke And cold neglect on Earth who meekly cast Ashes on their bowed heads, yet whose firm look Was Heavenwards and not Earthwards and who took Reproach from all, but chief from those who well Had done, to have searched each cell and inmost nook Of their own bosoms, ere they fiercely fell On others slanderous tales, 'gainst them to invent and tell. 58 THE VISIONARY. X. Alas ! the best must often mourn the most Not here is their reward or their repose, 'T is when the deserts of this life are cross'd, That they may smile delivered from their woes, Then shall their tears be dried, their wounds shall close, But here speak, speak, ye thousands that lie down, Wronged Martyrs ! Saints uncanonized ! though blows And racks and flames had purchased more renown, Could aught of deadlier been, than the ills that here ye have known ? XL But oh ! to name my nameless self 'mongst those With rash presumptuous pride I venture not, Though Heaven knows I have borne my share of woes And battled with a bitter, bitter lot, Nor hath Shame hitherto impressed her blot On my life's page I have struggled long and hard My friends forgiven and my foes forgot, How long shall Fate my sweet reprieve retard ? Say shall I forfeit ere, I have reaped my rich reward ! THK VISIONARY. 59 XII. The day I write's the first of the New Year, Old days are gone, and new ones coming on, To bring but the old Events in their career For what is new beneath the all-seeing Sun? We do what millions have before us done, We see what multitudes before have seen, We run the same race myriads too have run What is, What shall be, but what still hath been, While still we trace fresh schemes, with expectations keen. XIII. , Yet wond'rous things shall still his thoughts engage, And proud impressive sights shall he behold Who gazes from a distance on Life's stage, And sees its mighty Pageant-pomp unrolled Even I, though I am now in sooth not old, Have seen such marvellous changes in my time, Such dark miraculous destinies unfold Such strange events too dread and deep for rhyme That Memory scarce can grasp, her shadowy stores sublime, 60 THE VISIONARY. XIV. Yea ! I have Spectator and Survivor been Of such strange things as make me stand aghast, When she would fain rehearse what o'er the scene Hath full of dread absorbing interest passed, And I have viewed the threatening Heavens o'ercast With huge dense clouds that seemed o'ercharged to swell With Thunders such as well might burst to blast All Nature and Existence yet that fell At last in peaceful rains, or passed and all was well ! XV. I have watched with mine own pained and wildered eyes Man's fickle nature, changing with the wind, I've marked the lapse of ancient Dynasties, The wreck of old Opinions long enshrined In Sanctuaries of the human heart and mind I have hailed Discoveries glorious and sublime Even such as bless and benefit Mankind I've viewed in fleeting periods of winged time, Prosperity and Peace, take flight from Clime to Clime ! THE VISIONARY. 61 XVI. Awe-struck I heard in Childhood's sensitive years The echoing thunders of a lengthened War When the leagued Nations cast aside their fears And sought to arrest the Conqueror on his Car He on whose forehead Fortune's blazing Star Seemed set by fiends in fierce infernal mirth, A gorgeous brand like Cain's to Scathe and Scar ! Have I not seen on this unstable Earth Of Empires the overthrow, of bourgeoning States the birth? XVII. The end of Empires and the birth of States The unfolding of gigantic Shadowy Schemes Such as the wildest-working brain creates When one Chi msera- Chaos seem its dreams, Yet what were Fancy's strangest flights and themes To the Actual Stern Realities which smite With Consternation while for ever teems Fresh cause for wonder, till the aching sight Can scarcely seize and trace the varying forms aright ! 62 THE VISIONARY. XVIII. Charters and Constitutions I have seen formed, Some to be broken through patched up again Then slowly sapped if not defied and stormed Warped to the sanction for a Tyrant-reign ! The Letter not the Spirit taught to retain ! And I have watched, abhorred dissensions rise I'the heart of Kingdoms while in vain, in vain Freedom Religion form the factious cries Till both lie crushed beneath War's worst Home- anarchies. XIX. I have seen Realms torn from their anointed Kings, And Kings to kingless States dependent given, Remodelled Laws Improvement, such as brings From its rash suddenness a deep fear driven Through thoughtful Minds, that not unrent unriven Shall Fabrics stand, which lack foundations fixed Firm, firm and fasti' the ground, since with the leaven Of Imperfection all Man's works are mixed, Weigh well if Right and Wrong thoud'st justly choose betwixt. THE VISIONARY. 63 XX. But who shall tell me that these things are new Have regal Sceptres ne'er been flung before From hand to hand, have men ne'er striven to undo What their forefathers did ! hath purple War Not dyed the ensanguined Earth from shore to shore, Or in a listed space hemmed in confined Even in a self-stung Country's bleeding core. More sternly stormed, in revel fierce and blind ? Hath rashness never marked, the councils of Mankind ? XXI. Have Sciences and novel Arts ere this Not been discovered by the human brain ? Mankind impatient still of that which is Make ceaseless efforts to extend their reign, To enlarge their sources of power, knowledge, gain, Yea ! even these, these things have their rise, and foil, While Barbarism o'erpowered, o'erpowers again, Mind, Freedom, Luxury, Civilization all That we too fondly deem defies Decay's stern thrall. 64 THE VISIONARY. XXII. Perchance more crowded, more compressed, more close, The Occurrences may heaped and hastened be In these wild days the wonders and the woes, The jubilees the jars ; more hurryingly These waves in their succession full and free, May, while the shore beneath them shakes be rolled! But they 're the billows of the self-same Sea, 'T is but the restless tide that heaved of old, And History's page presents, tales thrice three times retold. XXIII. Away ! no Sybil's scroll do we require Though strange events come thronging thick and fast, Though hope or dread the Horizon may inspire No Sybil's scroll we need ! thy page, great Past Is opened to us ! therein crowd amassed All answers to our questionings, and 't is there If our calm looks unprejudiced we cast We the end shall trace, of deeds and dooms that wear To their Conclusion on, like all things Earth may share ! THE VISIONARY. 65 XXIV. In sooth no Sybil do we need nor Seer, Experience hath enriched us with her store Piled through the increase of ages, which each year, Each day augments, and well may we adore The ways of Providence, since still to explore The Annals of Nations should instruct us still In Faith and Piety's celestial lore ; How Good hath oft extracted been from 111 ! Ho wall things have conspired, to unfold Heaven's gracious will ! XXV. A mighty Hand although by us unseen Doth all this Earth's affairs mould regulate, A mighty Eye is over all I ween, To which lie bared the latent springs of Fate. All the Orders of Events with all their weight Of consequences have been deeply planned By dread Omniscience, and in Embryo state Been good pronounced ere stood fast that command, Which bade them spring to birth ; yea they 've been weighed, judged, scanned. 66 THE VISIONARY. XXVI. The day of the New Year ! no storms convulse Its quiet dawn may none distract the march Of the unborn after-days, with harsh repulse Of Peace and Harmony may the sweet arch Of Heaven pour Sunshine o'er us, not to parch Nor choak with tares the ground but to ensure Bright Plenty with redundant horn ! we search In vain with prying eyes, the array obscure Of coming days,andask " Whatyethave we to endure?" * XXVII. May all be prosperous and be peaceful ! yet, The echo of that fond prayer is a sigh, For one winged instant can we not forget, That 't is a vain hope for Mortality ! Alas ! the days that come shall fleet and fly Too like their brethren that pale shadowy host Not to demand a sad reverted eye Weeping o'er all that 's perished, past, but most O'er bright Occasions missed o'er Heaven-lent prospects lost! THE VISIONARY. 07 XXVIII. Aye ! fair Occasions still shall granted be To build high fabric of immortal trust, And thrice alas ! for human vanity Oft oft be slighted, for though we 're but dust Rashly we choose our own course, and so thrust The proffered good away skilful to miss The open path and thread the obscure which must Or lead us into Worlds more dire than this, Or be retrod with pain if we 'd avoid the abyss ! XXIX. The Seasons and their wonders shall, displayed, Recall that Word which these of old ordained, While Man as though of Heaven's voice still afraid Shall faintly shrink, nor revel unrestrained In Nature's bounty he is cramped and chained, And most unwise of prisoners would not taste Of freedom, but pays heaviest price, though pained By stinging conscience still, his life to waste A price of cares, toils, griefs and would in Eden placed ! F 2 68 THE VISIONARY. XXX. The first of the New Year ! thoughts thronging come Upon my Soul like clouds that spread abroad Their magical diversities ; i' their loom, Invisible, so fast spun that none may goad Their Fancy to overtake them thus her road Doth Reason lose midst complicated dreams Oh ! Past ! He not upon my Soul a load, Oh ! Future ! hide not from me Hope's dear beams, Nor let me now mock thee, with too presumptuous schemes. XXXI. Life ! thou hast moments full, how full of bliss, And yet they are but moments, felt and gone, Melting even in our grasp, away ; 't is this That doth embitter all the joy we Ve known, Perchance some wish is granted, or just won Some long-sought prize, even in possession palls The things so much desired the charm's undone, The spell is broken to the ground it falls, Soon lures some other hope some new illusion calls ! THE VISIONARY. <;<) XXXII. Different the means employed, yet the same end Have most, few, few have not o'er others 't is To acquire some influence and if not a friend To gain, to win some flatterers ; is 't not this That exiles many from their proper bliss, Upon a wild and wretched aim to tend, Which whether they accomplish or must miss, Shall little pleasure with their feelings blend ? Too much upon the rest, they evermore depend! XXXIII. Mark ! where the fond Aspirants pass along For are not all Aspirants more or less ! Perchance the deep desire may glow most strong, Where we conceive it can no power possess Where scarce its bare Existence we could guess. In various ways men hide this or betray, Various as are their dispositions yes ! This is revealed in many a startling way, Or studiously concealed mark ! how their parts they play ! 70 THE VISIONARY. XXXIV. Some with a look of haughty unconcern, As though despising praise, defying blame. Some with anxiety that doth but earn, Repulse and ridicule in lieu of fame, Some with an open, some a covert aim, Some with much fear, and others with much hope, Yet each and every one condemned the same To sorrow or rejoice or tower or droop As they succeed or fail, in their fond wishes' scope. XXXV. For so it is ordained well, wisely too (If that the feeling's fitly chastened down, Nor suffered to acquire a force undue) That not indifferent to the smile or frown Of others should we be while 'mongst them thrown, In this loud busy populous World below, Would we indeed their influence all disown? Few, few have e'er accomplished this, and know Perchance not happier these, when crushed the generous glow. THE VISIONARY. 71 XXXVI. Even thus it is contrived well, wisely too, Since were it not so wilder pranks would Men Play i' the face of Heaven than now they do, Though that were hard in sooth ! and yet again This is the cause of ills and plagues that then Might not be heard of still 't is better far We should not skulk like Cynics in our den Or in defiance, wage contentious war Still 'gainst our fellows, nor for their Opinions care ! XXXVII. Not now the buzzing clamour of the crowd Rings in mine ears I dwell awhile, alone And few the echoes, distant, few, nor loud That vex me, of that harsh monotonous tone Now for a time my thoughts shall be mine own, But no ! a tyrant-spirit o'er them sways Deep powerful Memory, and of pleasures flown (While all too well my heart her call obeys) She still discourses much and of the dear old days ! 7'2 THE VISIONARY. XXXVIII. The Old Days come back on me when all 1 saw Was Beauty, Power, Joy, Mystery and Surprise, What now my Spirit's icy mail can thaw? How can I see delight with these dim eyes? Though still to admire Earth, Ocean, Air and Skies Is mine and must be yet 't is feeling void Of glowing bliss, my heart within me dies Even while my mind enjoys as that enjoyed )f old with it ! I feel, my hope and heart, destroyed. XXXIX. And wherefore ? oh what boots it to return To all that dire Necessity hath willed, It is enough from her stern law to learn To grind the Soul down till 't is steeled or stilled. Once in forgetfulness I well was skilled A Stranger to my past self I had grown ! While, still through all my being's well instilled This best art, to be blown as leaves are blown By Autumn winds along without a plaint or moan. THE VISIONARY. 73 XL. This hollow World inhospitable, cold, Arraigns amerces for most venial sins, And oft the worst doth most unmoved behold, Since Merit's touchstone is success ; if wins Its prize foul Crime, 't is honoured, praised ! while spins Hypocrisy her web to entangle all, While Custom shakes her fell rod while begins Suspicion ever 'gainst the best to call For explanations vain whose Z/z'yesshouldspeakandshall ! XLI. Contagion of Corruption doth await Whoso unguarded on the field, the Stage Of that World moves, let him beware his fate ! Wretched shall be his youth, wretched his age, If he seeks not to keep his mind's broad page Clear and unsullied Angels then may write Thereon, nor baffled daemons in blind rage Mix their vile characters with words of light Still thy Soul's whiteness guard, and keep itpureand bright ! 74 THE VISIONARY. XLII. Yet if impatient of Corruption some Thus stand 'gainst its advances false and vile, How often it decides their hapless doom And seals their Misery with a bitter smile, Eager to blight what it can not beguile ! No ! all must worship with bent knee, bowed head, (Although detesting it and them the while) The golden Idols it sets up, thus led Are thousand thousands still, through thoughtlessness or dread ! XLIII. Oh ! let those take divinely-tempered arms Who would pass free midst all the perils round, And keep immoveably mid all alarms The bright resolve which pure minds still have found If persevered in with just zeal profound Shall bring peace, comfort, triumph, at the last, But they must hope not to 'scape stripe and wound, Nor think unscared, to tread Life's dreary waste, Nor dream its harsh fruits can, be sweetened to their taste. THE VISIONARY. 75 XLIV. For them do pits innumerable gape And snares are multiplied sharp swords are hung Over their heads, hair-held, and many a shape Masked, wreathed, tricked, tinselled o'er, with honeyed tongue Strives to delude, and they are cast among Those, who will ever seek to make them share The shame that burns, the torture that hath wrung, The rage, the pain, the hate, and the despair, Since hard 't is for the fallen, with the Upright to compare. XLV. How Good and Evil their dread fight maintain Deep in our deepest heart, nor e'er relax Their efforts, but with shock and strife and pain For mastery seek now one doth stronger wax And now the other, Men's strength is as flax If helped not from above and oft they lean To Evil, treacherous fiend, who with keen axe And fatal knife, all wholesome plants yet green Still tries with envious spite, to extirpate close and clean. 76 THE VISIONARY. XLVI. To bear to do but chiefly 't is to bear We must gird up our Souls nor let us tire But still proceed with caution and with care ! With each expiring moment doth expire Existence what is borne is borne though dire And difficult 't was once to bear through ill Through grief, let this console, while high and higher Burns our bright hope as near and nearer still We press to the great goal even till our hearts grow chill ! XLVII. To be must be on Earth for aye to bear, To know to disapprove if not despise, To do for ever must be found to dare, To feel, to suffer in a soft disguise ! . But let us, strong in hope, in faith arise And do what may our future bliss ensure, We yet may feel and faint not in the Skies ! Our Knowledge there may be deep, glad and pure, To be may there be all, to enjoy where joys endure ! THE VISIONARY. 77 XLVIII. Keen bitter thoughts distract my Soul from rest, Oh ! Soul too troubled and too vexed thou art, Too anxiously this heart throbs in my breast, Be still be hushed thou fond and foolish heart, Throw not thyself upon the threatened dart It may glance off from thee solicitous fear Doth forestall grief bear thou thy destined part When 't is disclosed ! Deliverance may be near When least expected ev'n it may start from thy bier. XLIX. Oh ! Life ! unsolved problem that thou art, The more thou 'rt studied still the more thou 'rt made Deeply, insuperably obscure, we dart Our thoughts in thy abyss of gloom and shade Through all the clouds and coverings o'er it laid By restless Curiosity still spurred And goaded sharply, and are we repaid? Alas ! more turbid still the more they 're stirred Thy Waters grow we are thus mocked, cheated, foiled, deterred ! 78 THE VISIONARY. L. Life is a Study to which all may bend Their Energies most fruitfully, and find It is a theme, a subject without end ! He shall do service true to Humankind Who can unloose its Gordian knots close-twined, Its complications into Order bring Its labyrinthine paths explore, that wind With many a tortuous turn, and ring round ring, By subterraneous vault, masked rock, and hidden spring! LI. For little 't is we THE VISIONARY. 79 LII. Oh ! that I now could teach this heart of mine That best, first of Life's blessings, dear Content ! Then should a brightness o'er my pathway shine Nor I in young decrepitude be bent 'T is worse than madness when in vile clay pent We would be all we dream or dare affect. Upon this Earth not every one was sent To build an Empire, or to found a Sect, Yet few, few, can their own deficiencies detect. LIII. Roses nor Laurels can thy Palms surpass Oh honey-sweet Content a thousand charms Are thine that wither not like sun-scorched grass Lo ! the Stern Conqueror proud of feats in arms Nought but War's furnace-blast his bosom warms, His destinies are writ on iron leaves, He towers i' the van of his vile locust-swarms Till the Earth astounded round his footsteps heaves And while she lauds his name, she turns aside and grieves. 80 THE VISIONARY. LIV. The vain Voluptuary whose Selfish heart Beats but for Pleasure who at ease reclines Untouched by Feeling's glow or Sorrow's smart Ere long each flower that in his Garland twines Falls, faded, scentless, inly he repines Too soon the vision Happiness hath fled Still on each studied luxury he refines Still Pleasure seeks but finds Regret instead Roughening the rose-leaves' folds beneath the Sybarite spread ! LV. Pride saith, " For me, for me this World behold, Shine ! shine ! ye Skies to light me and to cheer, Roll on, ye Seas be all your billows rolled To pleasure me and serve, for rich ships steer O'er ye their course with dazzling treasures rare Freighted for me ! blaze, Stars of Heaven ! above, Great Sun ! for me adjust the varying year, Ye Elements ! my slaves and minions prove, And all things for my State, in proud Procession move." THE VISIONARY. Ql LVI. Not so saith meek and equable Content, Yet all in truth doth unto her belong ; Nature and her transcendancies are lent To her for ever on her lips the song Of praise and not self-boasting, sweet and strong, Ascribes to Heaven the glory round her move Bright blessed Spirits of peace a guardian throng With heavenliest ministrations still ! meek Dove ! All, all things are thine own though not through Pride but Love. LVII. More rich thou movest o'er this Earth's varied face More rich than revenue-commanding Kings ; Thine is no wayward wish no causeless chase, Nor thine Ambition's scourge nor Envy's stings : Yea half unconsciously dost thou all things Possess, that sharest in other's weal, behold How sweet a pleasure in thy calm breast springs, Blessed through their bliss, made wealthier with their gold, Richer than Kings art thou an hundred, thousand fold. 82 THE VISIONARY. LVIII. Well said the Roman of a by-gone day, Well said the Roman of a time long past, While gazing' at the Triumph's long array, (Alas ! three hundred such all failed at last) ; " Continuance " 't was it lacked, the laurels cast Before the Conqueror might be shadowed o'er By sad reflections, of how soon and fast The pomp and pride should pass and be no more Decay, Oblivion, Death, Change, Change these last these four ! LIX. These blend with all beneath the Eternal skies, These mix with all things like the Elements Religions Dynasties Philosophies Are sapped by these and Man and his intents O'erthrown ; alas ! the erazures and the rents, The dread confusions and divisions drear The o'ershadowings and the undoings, while the events Of Earth come thickening round us, gendering fear, Or joy, as even to us, blind Mortals they appear ! THE VISIONARY. 3 LX. These four stem Powers in their dim cloudy tents, As at the World's four corners seem to sit They that convince without learned Arguments, Or florid sophistries of human wit, To hear their fearful Edict 's, to submit ; With cozenage strange, they cheat themselves indeed (While round them all things fade, or fall, or flit), Who can with day-dream hopes their fancies feed That aught on Earth can last their pillar is a reed ! LXI. How in this dark Arena of the World Do men for evermore engage and strive, And seek while Destiny's page is fast unfurled The foremost in each daring aim to drive, So in a Maelstroom, and a Storm they live, Not to be better, but conspicuous more Their quest and object let them fail or thrive Can aught repay the burthen that they bore, While struggling hand to hand in feuds they must deplore ? 84 THE VISIONARY. LXII. What, what by Notoriety do men gain, If Scorn the finger points at them and shame ? If they have built their pride on others' pain, Or compassed on Crime's Catalogue a name ? Vain shall their triumphs be, as vile their aim Their infamous honours they shall wish away. How would they compromise with lessened Fame The stings of tyrannous Conscience to allay, Hate's sharp hissed curse to avert and blame's loud ban to stay. LXIII. Nay ! even men's hollow praises shall a bane And mockery grow, if praises may be theirs And though like hollow pleasure they may feign, They shall be inly torn with sleepless cares ; The vulture whose fierce beak their bosom tears, Ever more fierce and strong and pitiless grows, Nor respites his tormented prey, nor spares, No peace they find the unhallowed Fame they chose, Turned evil still shall rack in verge of their repose. THE VISIONARY. g5 LXIV. Could'st thou but hunt such to their Solitude, And view them, without effort or disguise Then should thy breast with more Content imbued Thank the indulgent mercies of the Skies That kept thee from such triumphs, and such prize Then should'st thou, finding the emptiness and dearth Of this World's dull and criminal Vanities, Seek to partake its melody and mirth Without the staining soil, the weight, the cramp of Earth. LXV. He who but for himself would work and stir Denies himself the richest blessing quite And doth a miserable chain prefer To fairest liberty and range of might To peace, and hope, and feeling and Delight. Oh ! let us choose the part more lofty far, For others still to feel, in noble spite Of slippery Fortune, who shall veil her star In vain for us since we, can her worst efforts mar. 36 THE VISIONARY. LXVI. Since, independent of ourselves almost Shall we become, in many another's fate Our lot 's then deeply cast nor wholly lost Can so our chance of bliss be, what a freight Of hopes we bear we can retaliate Upon our tyrant Fortune, sweet and new Ten thousand precious interests can create For every lovely dream she wills to undo Nor vain light fancies these but feelings brightly true. LXVII. Thus we ourselves can on ourselves bestow Such boons as Fortune never could contrive, And salutary make our very woe As bees are skilled to treasure in the hive The juice of poison-flowers, which they deprive Of all its venom to pure liquid gold Turned by those cunning alchemists ! while we live Shall we thus glean deep dear delights untold, And when we die, shall find these slide not from our hold. THE VISIONARY. 87 LXVIII. Could but the ambitious Man, the Mai-content, Survey the boundless blessings in his power, And the true greatness, lofty and unbent, Which might be his in some rewarding hour, (Though now perchance the horizon seem to lower) If noble means for noble ends, to adopt He seek ! the heavenly harvest and blest dower The Victory-wreaths from trees immortal lopped And the everlasting blooms, by streams Celestial cropped, LXIX. Oh ! could he but behold these, and survey The glorious fields of promise that lie spread Before him, if he choose the appointed way, And in the paths of Peace and Duty tread Not through the World's choaked ways complacent led, Where tyrannous Custom holds her iron reign, Still stretching all on her Procrustes bed, Till of themselves faint semblance they retain, So doth she those transform, whom she doth stint or strain ! 88 THE VISIONARY. LXX. Could he do this oh ! how would he despise His poor ambition, and his puny aim. Lo ! new-discovered "Worlds appear the Skies ! Life's little lottery and contentious game, Its frail precarious breath and fluttering flame Of these he thinks but not as erst he thought (With altered feelings and repentant shame) When once the heavenly Inspiration's caught, And reformation blest within his spirit hath wrought. LXXI. Pranked out in vain pretensions, what we are, Nor to ourselves nor others is well known They are too much sundered from us, they are too far, And we ourselves too rfear ! to One alone, Is the inner man completely wholly, shewn ; And midst the many that we may much deceive, Perchance none are by such false treacherous tone Duped, as ourselves are ; and we 're doomed to grieve O'er such deceit when Fate, her deadly web doth weave. THE VISIONARY. 89 LXXII. Some have been born into this lower Earth So high, so glorious, scarce can labouring Fame Compass their Greatness o'er their mortal birth They towered the mighty thoughts which they could frame Shook, moved the World, their all-immortal name Should be our Talisman and Triumph-Cry Not that like them we can Men's Spirits tame Or lead, or fire, but that they proved how nigh Our clouded Nature is, to Worlds beyond the sky. LXXIII. Though their outshining and excelling powers Upraised them far o'er Man's frail mortal state, Though their quick minds were gifted more than ours, Yet that we can admire, judge, estimate Appreciate thus, though hope not to imitate, Proves us their brethren and their fellows still, The more .we honour these, the Immortal Great, The more our memories and our minds they fill, The more we prove our breasts, with fires congenial thrill ! 90 THE VISIONARY. LXXIV. Our brethren they ! and though our Souls soar not As theirs have done the likeness and the link Fail not since the Earthly taint and tinge and spot, The weight of human clay, which oft will sink The loftiest natures, we may justly think Were theirs, how many weaknesses and woes Stamped them as men and mortals ! they could shrink From pain and sorrow, and implore repose, And they could find perchance, Life's happiest part the close ! LXXV. The Heavenly Galileo, he who trod Undizzied midst Creation's Mysteries, still Was Brother unto the heaviest carle and clod That seemed to stagnate, without thought or will Perchance developed far from the dull chill Of this low mortal clime shall be at last The Powers, that latent lay, and masked, until Existence' pettiest portion should be past, Until the pilgrim Soul its fleshly slough should cast. THE VISIONARY. 91 LXXVI. Then may the fettered Spirit be set free ! A thousand Miltons then may higher and higher In Inspiration's immortality Revel sublime, and grasp the sounding lyre Their bright thoughts tossing on a sea of tire A thousand Lockes with ampler field may pore O'er noblest studies glorious, while to acquire Fresh Knowledge shall be ever more and more To marvel at Heaven's power to tremble and to adore ! LXXVII. Those who have towered above their fellows, not To enchain them, nor to injure but to bless And to improve their changeful human lot, And sow for them new seeds of Happiness, They asked not Fame their labours to redress, Nor worldly good, nor aught that those demand \Yho for themselves alone would onwards press, And seek not to conciliate but command ! 'T was the blest toil itself, repaid that princely band ! 92 THE VISIONARY. LXXVI1I. Majesty was their Nature and their breath A royalty of peace not a keen fire That nought can quench nor cool but icy Death, Nor was their Being one wild will to aspire ! When such as these (since mortal these !) expire, Then are their souls seized with the deep true hope ! And then uplifted from Earth's clayey mire, They feel that they no more shall sink or droop, In death they lift their heads 't is but on Earth they stoop ! LXXIX. When with the wish to exalt and to improve Is blent the power, in happiest union rare, When Genius twines with philanthropic Love, When Man's first interests claim the Aspirant's care, How fair the field, how true the triumph there, Heaven blesses from the first the pure design, Heaven doth in love, their love-taught labours share, Such Spirits as those have passed the boundary line 'Twixt the Earth and Sky while still, they sought to illume not shine. THE VISIONARY. 93 LXXX. Such, such have been the Spirits too that have burnt Their thoughts into the Eternal Universe, And in their Glory and Success but learnt Oh ! not their Strength, their Greatness the reverse ! And humbly that deep lesson did rehearse, Yet amidst all they taught, still that was found Most hard, most vain, to teach ! and for their curse Thousands, their steps have followed, yet around Forborne to look and own, themselves still, cramped held bound ! LXXXI. They in their bright humility, confessed Their Nothingness before the Lord of all Yet still on their steep path unfaultering pressed, And found the triumph while they felt the thrall. He at whose dread at whose Commanding Call Worlds leapt to life, hath set strict bounds below But glorious was their failure, proud their fall, (For their Success, their Victory must seem so To Him!) if these His Might, his Greatness served to show. 94 THE VISIONARY. LXXXII. Yea if, even in the coil and soil of dust, They to the Eternal's service might be vowed, Their bonds were bright their Nothingness august Their fleeting evanescence blest and proud That Nothingness, Omnipotence could shroud Even with Itself! with Grace, Strength, Glory, Power, Until they passed off like a melting cloud Into that Vastness, which their thoughts would scour In vain, in Life's strait Yoke its brief and feverish hour. LXXXIII. They though they felt their present Nothingness Rejoiced in boundless hopes that soared sublime, Hopes that might well console and richly bless And save them from the rough assaults of Time, And from the rigours of this mortal clime, The proffered pardon and the promised joy Upheld them through this World of gloom and crime They knew its sweetest witcheries could destroy, And strenuously eschewed each glittering gaude and toy. THE VISIONARY. 95 LXXXIV. They whetted their great Energies on the Hope Of Universal Usefulness their steep Aims They wreaked on Execution ! could they droop Whose hallowed purpose was to give their names Unto that noblest of all Earthly Fames, That which speaks with a common daily Voice Leagued with no fierce, foul deeds, no blushing shames, That bids the enlightened Nations to rejoice Oh ! who, but would that could, make such Fame their own choice? LXXXV. Nothing am I in Life's tempestuous whirl Save a most mute Spectator nothing am Midst all its stir, and desperate strife, while curl Its billows round me they which know no dam, Nor sprinkleth me their spray, nor crush nor jam My form, those rocks that ever frown around, While angry Water-Spouts refalling ram Down to the Abyss those strugglers that are bound In Selfishness supreme, till their deep grave is found ! 96 THE VISIONARY. LXXXVI. So to be nothing is 't not to be all ? Unfettered by vain selfish thoughts or aims, And living through all things as though the call Of Death's dread voice had sounded, that which tames The loftiest to the lowliest, when our frames Are elements consigned to elements And when our spirits rush like wind toss'd flames Even to rejoin the Universe, and vents Find in a myriad worlds for their Earth-checked intents ! LXXXVII. How stilly is this Operation dread Of the vast Universe, the slightest sound, The echo of a whisper, soft is shed Upon the air, my foot-fall on the ground Is loud, yet on their awful wondrous round Prescribed, uncounted Worlds stupendous go Conjointly with our own, their is no bound To the dread marvels that do round us flow, In one continuous stream, not shallow and not slow. THE VISIONARY. 97 LXXXVIII. Man hath within his Soul some thoughts that seem As planted there by Heaven far Heaven alone, And ever and anon vague as some dream They stir within his spirit and a tone And token grow, and are a Symbol shown Of his high origin and glorious end, Yet shall not bear their fruit, nor blush full-blown, Till Death, that mighty Husbandman befriend And snatch him to that clime, towards which all footsteps tend LXXXIX. Thrice-radiant visions ! all-bewitching dreams ! The Oasis-spots in life's long dreary waste The honeyed fountains midst its brackish streams The flower-wreaths midst its wild-weed -growths of haste, The priceless gems that have the stern fronts graced Of deep and arbitrary Destinies, The ambrosial, glad Enchantments brightly placed 'Mongst iron Life's cold hard Realities, The banquets of the Soul the blossoms of the Skies. 98 THE VISIONARY. xc. My best-loved friends, mine only flatterers be Ever 'twixt me and the obdurate Real, stand No proud Enchanter ere more rapt could see The outshining wonders that obeyed his wand, Than I, the Worlds that rise at my command Oh ! my bless'd Empires my sweet Realms of Light, My Jewel-hoards, my Mines, my Fairy- Laud ! My Court, my Counsellors, my Winged Armies bright, Dazzling to the o'er-wrought soul as noon-suns to the sight! XCI. No ! never came at the olden Magians' call Such wondrous pomps spread in such rich display, As crowd upon my Soul thrice-glorious all In proud successions and sublime array Bright sea-like suns whose splendours ray by ray Break o'er the thought, like waves upon the strand, (That leave it sparkling, lustrous even as they Are lustrous till one diamond gleams the sand) And Worlds on Worlds shine there, too radiant to be scanned. THE VISIONARY. 99 XCII. Midst the disruption of all dearest ties, These only tempered my torn soul to bear, These and submission to the Eternal Skies, Else had I sunk beneath the inflicted care, And my life's fire had smouldered in despair ; But I was so sustained and so inspired, And did that iron in my spirit wear Calmly, howe'er oppressed, and wrung, and tired Nor did Endurance fail nor Hope herself expired. XCIII. The more o'er- clouded mine Horizon grew, The more I wooed the Ideal's sweet unveiled sun The fiercer round me Life's loud tempests blew, To agitate and vex, and shake and stun, Till comforts were but few and pleasures none The more I cherished in my bosom's core The heavenly halcyon calm that soothed and won My heart to peace, that calm which brightly wore Those winged, deep, smiling dreams, that blessed me evermore. H2 100 THE VISIONARY. XCIV. Such thoughts as these became my life of life My joy my trust my stay my all in all They saved me from much sorrow, and more strife ; For mine was not a mind to endure the thrall Of this world's despotism, and ice and gall My chill'd embittered blood had been, if won To enter in the lists where thousands fall And few succeed yes, I had been undone But for those gentle dreams, that o'er my spirit shone. xcv. What though at times my being they disturbed, And troubled all the waters of my soul, Soon soon I charmed them down, and calmly curbed My mood till thence the stormy wildness stole; What though at times they shook my being's whole, And a distraction and a fever grew, Yet their departure had become the knoll Of all my Happiness, and I had few Hopes to afford to lose, though those I had proved true. THE VISIONARY. 101 XCVI. Yes, this has saved me this, and this alone, From the Agitation and the Agony That all too surely my quick heart had known, Had I mid this world's waste been doomed to sigh ; But so to roam beneath a glorious sky Peopled with my own dreams, and to infuse My spirit through all Nature, and mine eye To turn unwearyingly on her, and muse On her for ever, yields, delight I ne'er can lose. XCVII. What wondrous difference shews 'twixt man and man ! There you behold one of a towering mind Yet with his honours meekly borne ; you scan No wretched arrogance inflated blind And loathsome in the loftiest there nor find Repulse of selfishness, but all is just, Pure, open, true and here you mark refined And hateful Egotism, and Pride that must In Wisdom's Eyes cast down, their bold claims to the dust. 102 THE VISIONARY. XCVIII. Some Men do seem to elevate and raise Us to themselves in lieu of seeking much To abase and trample on, to them be praise ! 'T is they who have felt the real awakening touch Of lofty genius, and 't is true that such More noble make us by their presence high And its supreme contagion vouch, oh ! vouch This bright truth, Ye ! who have ever lingered nigh The Exalted of the Earth, till ye too trod the sky. XCIX. As Persia's minstrel did so sweetly say In the olden time with tenderness and force, That the rich Rose enriched the commmonest clay So our minds feel that while the inspired discourse Of such men stirs in us the impassioned source Of admiration, they do make us glow With almost kindred feelings the remorse Of Approbation shall even, softly flow Through envious minds at length, those little minds and low. THE VISIONARY. 103 c. But these are the true Noble the real Great Indulgent, generous, open as the day Not coldly vain, nor pompously elate, Nor overweeningly fastidious say, Can we ere fear that such minds will betray, That such can mock, or such mislead ah no ! Large are their views and straight their shining way, And Gladly would they share with all below The immortal Hopes they feel the exalted Truths they know. CI. Alas ! that Genius ever should be found Commixed with villanous qualities and base, Scattering a thousand specious plagues around Instead of brightening all Earth's daedal face, And showering blessings o'er the human race Though circling all with its own magic zone Still clasping all in pestilent embrace, With proudest gifts and noblest powers their own, That mighty minds should e'er Corruption teach alone ! 104 THE VISIONARY. C1I. To thousands, millions, myriads, even may be Fatal, their flexile, flattering theories vain ! With varying tastes framed artfully to agree Those plausible and Proteus doctrines gain A host of followers yet do these retain Their ill-got influence ? no, awhile believed, Or wilfully adopted their dire reign Continueth but ere long all undeceived Their fond Admirers mourn, of every hope bereaved. cm. As fireworks cast into a summer sky, Awhile to affront the stars and then Jjo sink, To perish into ashes and to die So do their thoughts tend to Destruction's brink ; A moment brilliant they may seem to drink The brightness from all ancient Truths but soon Relapse to darkness and to fragments shrink Their light was not their own an ominous boon, And thus they have fallen away, as dew-drops dried at THE VISIONARY. ] 5 CIV. cv. It is a sorrow but it must be borne To feel Doubt darkening more, Hope growing less, To mingle still mid things we have learned to scorn, To brunt the churme, the shock, the throng, the press Of mortals when that bubble Happiness Hath burst in our foiled grasp, oh ! when to steel The heart is vain, we still prove still possess Still bear, and know, seek, toil, trust, fear, and feel, Then, then we are taught keen pangs, no language can reveal. 106 THE VISIONARY. CVI. How oft mistaking and misunderstood Walk we this world, and this doth fill our years With sorrow and vexation, for we brood Over imagined wrongs or we shed tears That others should distrust us, all this wears Delusion oft, for they dislike not us, But that false something which to them appears To be ourselves, and we too blunder thus, Judging them ill on Earth to judge is hazardous. CVII. Our slightest actions may assume in sooth A thousand different colourings unto eyes Prejudiced and distempered, and the truth Of the veiled motive's feature, who descries ? Not the earthly-minded not the worldly-wise ! Not as they are they're seen, but as the mood Of others may distort them, and disguise Thus We grope on, through Evil, and through Good, Misunderstanding oft and oft misunderstood ! THE VISIONARY. J07 CVIII. Could we be lenient as we would be spared, Could we extend the indulgence that we claim To others Discord's dread torch, which hath flared So fiercely through all time, that torch whose flame Seems from the infernal element caught, should tame And lowly sink, and harmony and peace And confidence and joy should sweetly blame The too, too speedy hours for their short lease, Since happiness and love, like all besides must cease. CIX. Though words and works may widely differ here, Let us content ourselves with scrupulous care To examine evermore our own, in fear And watchfulness, and studiously compare Conscientiously o'erlook them, so that there May lurk no error nor discrepancy, But all be open candid, frank and fair As we wish those of others even should be, So let our works and words, at least be found to agree. ]08 THE VISIONARY. ex. Fear not for evermore the ambushed Snare Lingering with wakeful eye, and watchful ear. Nor ever in self- torturing doubt prepare 'Gainst dark remote Contingencies ! in fear Weigh not all possible chances still 'gainst clear Plain simple seemings ; there are some who make A policy of their feelings, and who steer So carefully, that they no pleasure take Nor give in life but keep, Suspicion's eyes awake ! CXI. This World's Vexations and distractions may Perplex, but let us still trust to the Skies, And so our life shall calmer glide away. Weak wrong are they who deem they 're very wise To blunt all youthful Sensibilities, The World will do that for them, and too soon Much, much I pity him who ever lies In fear of being deceived the rolling Moon Beholds him sleepless still in fear he walks at Noon. THE VISIONARY. 109 CXII. All passes but a little, little while And all we most could feel, shall we forget Safe from the cold chicane of human guile, And worse, the snares by tempting daemons set, Malice' fell sneer and open Hatred's threat Shall grieve no more but while on Earth, we must Endure the checks and crosses all have met, And see our dearest hopes borne down to dust, Broken our tenderest ties deceived our fondest trust. CXIII. All through the same ordeals must pass below ; But in what manner they through these may pass Shall stamp and fix their future weal or woe Aye all is light as air and frail as glass, Fickle as clouds and fleeting ev'n as grass; But mighty consequences shall arise From these slight things though we are too apt, alas! To avoid such thoughts all, all that tempts, that tries That purifies, corrects is sent us from the skies. HO THE VISIONARY. CXIV. Let these things animate let these things aid And not o'erwhelm us, nor surprise, nor grieve ; Let us be confident and not dismayed, And Fortune's buffet patiently receive- So may the crown of thorns that she may weave, Bud into roses round our brows at last- So may we calmly wait our long reprieve, Nor shudder, nor shrink back, nor cower aghast, Whate'er the Future is we know 'twill be the Past. cxv. There is indeed satiety of joy There is satiety of sorrow too ! Her draughts of bitterness can sickening cloy, And so we turn to seek for something new ; Though like a fond uneasy nurse, she through Our paths appointed follow, we escape From her from time to time, and then we strew Flowers round our franchised footsteps, and we shape A thousand passionate dreams and our past selves do orjp f THE VISIONARY. HI CXVI. Begone pale Sorrow ! take thy leaden hand From off my heart ! Its pulses must be free. Oh ! but 't would feel, and prove, and understand, And pierce all folds of mighty mystery But thus o'erborne and checked, and chained of thee, It knows not, may not see, all seemeth cast In darkest mould all mocks its search to be Unchained is its chief prayer, oh Grief, at last Depart, come Future, come, and Venge the embittered Past! CXVII. I deemed at last I was full deeply skilled To more than cloak my feelings to controul To be but what I planned and what I willed, The master of mine own well-governed Soul, Of all my being of my feeling's whole A dream and a delusion ! and I sigh To think how such vain clouds about us roll A thaw hath come o'er my Philosophy I am but what I was must I thus live thus die ? J]2 THE VISIONARY. CXVIII. CXIX. Vexed are the Nations now a murmur comes Upon the troubled air, dull deep and low, As it arose from the Under-world of tombs And who its meaning to the full doth know? A thousand Changes seem to impend below, For Good or Evil, who shall dream or tell ? Who, who shall the End of these strange ferments show, 'Tis dark, 't is cloudy hark ! like a dread knell Of all things ancient known, that sound might seem to swell. THE VISIONARY. \\Q cxx. Now Men would rule their Rulers, and do judge The Authorities above them, and would tower High o'er the Exalted of the Land and grudge To all besides the privilege and the power The feverish rage doth every breast devour But Time in his progressive course shall show How vain the favourite fallacies of the hour, Could those who claim proud Independence know How near that envied state, are they are all below ! CXXI. Man's Government 's indeed in his own breast, Kings, Senates, Constitutions, Laws, in truth Leave this fact still unchanged ; and deeply blest Is he in age and in a rational youth Who feels this strongly : from the inspired mouth Of Sages old hath this not been declared ? For others and yourselves feel then more ruth Than thus to desolate what time has spared, Than thus to raze the shrines, and towers your Fathers reared. J14 THE VISION.ARY. CXXII. 'T were wiser would you leave things all untouched And seek to improve your faulty inner state, (Though proud in sooth the exalted aim avouched) And make ye worthier of a loftier fate ! Than thus to seek to anticipate the date When such desired Advancement shall become And beneficially promote you, wait, Oh ! wait awhile till the opening blush and bloom Mellow to ripened fruit nor tempt a headlong doom. CXXIII. Light bubbles have ere this been chased and clutched Pause ! nor too rashly your own strength overrate, Why seek ye to be stilted, propped, and crutched ? But 't is the day's wild freak to lay strange weight On the outward things and miserably to abate Zeal in the inner ! Oh ! that it were not so, Then might the Good be honoured as the Great, Peace might then shed her rosiest smiles below, And Piety and Love, decrease our sum of Woe ! THE VISIONARY. 1 15 CXXIV. But so it is and evil 't is and ill Men's minds while signs and portents round them lower Still superficially to Externals still Directed seem Heaven's richest Manna shower Of Plenty's blessings were distasteful, sour, To those who crave excitement. Lo ! the cry For Freedom is, should it not be for Power? For this men Treason take for their ally And Faction, Discord, Strife, bar Earth from the orient sky. cxxv. The Actors and the Acts seem great and proud In these momentous times yet Man's affairs Are ever mixed with petty things ; avowed Are loftiest aims, but many a bosom shares The meanest feelings, and most selfish cares. Could it be otherwise then forth might shine O'er every Land a star whose clear light bears Hope and assurance on its beam divine, Blest Freedom, thy bright star that gilds pure Virtue's shrine ! 116 THE VISIONARY. CXXVI. In these times all Men boasting seem to claim, That all beside should unto them defer Their judgments, though most impotent and lame, They still to all the world's too much prefer ! And in the coil and the distracting stir The wrath the rage all struggle and each strives ! O'er others still a contumelious slur To cast, each seeks, each at the sole aim drives To be the first, and best, how oft the un worthiest thrives ! CXXVII. England, my Country ! doubtless it is well For all states in firm friendship to remain, And as a Commonwealth of Nations dwell ; Nor seek each other or to thwart or chain, And yet I scarce can see without some pain, Gaul's blood-steeped hand stretched forth and grasped by thine, Too recent and too deadly is the stain, That marks her ; severed by old Ocean's brine, Let us not seek with her, too strictly close to entwine. THE VISIONARY. U7 CXXVIII. Treacherous inconstant to herself she is, How may we hope to us she will prove true, Veering and varying with each changeful breeze, Are trust and confidence indeed her due? Empress of Ocean ! Nature's hint pursue, And even in Amity divided still Remain or sorely, vainly may'st thou rue Those broadly-sundering Waters that fulfil Heaven's fixed design and hest, they are no scant wandering rill ! CXXIX. Upon that Ocean let thy Flag supreme Wave still keep Albion ! keep thine ancient sway Stand sunlike lone, though all bask in thy beam! Yon mighty masts are pillars whose proud stay Upholds thy Realm ! towards Heaven they shoot as they Would like Conductors o' the armed Lightnings be The armed Lightnings of that Heaven's roused wrath away From thy sweet shores brave Armaments ! how ye, Proclaim she still would reign inviolate, great and free! Hg THE VISIONARY. cxxx. Yea ! like Conductors of the winged Lightnings fierce Of the oft-waked wrath divine from our loved Land, While to the o'ershadowing clouds they lance-like pierce Towering aloft those proud pines seem to stand ; How many when distant from their native strand Have at their foot fallen low ! while safe and far In flourishing Peace and prosperous Quiet bland Unharmed by all the shocks and scathes of War Their Island-home remained girt with its billowy bar. CXXXI. Yet fallen as Conquerors too ! that Voice which spoke That dread behest which gave them to their grave, Bade that 'midst Victory's sunbursts the fierce stroke Of Fate should fall full oft ! so 'midst the Brave, Trafalgar's Hero perished on the wave The Eternal Hand chastening in blessing took Our Country's Idol-treasure then and gave A dear-bought triumph till the awed nation shook Pondering the grace vouchsafed and the eloquent stern rebuke ! THE VISIONARY. 1 19 CXXXII. England, crown'd England ! while one Bark of thine Walks the old Ocean the all-imperial Sea Casting its giant shadows o'er the brine, Surely that winged and bannered Bark shall be That Ocean's proud Palladium ! still be free Be mighty, England ! be thy sacred shore Still the bless'd haunt of Godlike Liberty ! But thus to be, be as thou wert before, Be as thou still hast been now and for evermore ! CXXXIII. Vexed are the Nations now, the heroic Land, The chivalrous, renowned, poetic Spain In many a hostile and determined band Sees her own Children formed, the red red rain That deeply bathes each fair and smiling plain Is all her heart's blood; will those wounds ne'er close ? The Lusian, for awhile may seem to feign Contentment peace but in such outward shows Can we put faith where late, War's deadliest Standard 120 THE VISIONARY. CXXXIV. In Italy ten thousand smothered fires Like those in their own stern Vesuvius' breast Her Sons confess the Spirits of their Sires Would they resume ? nor longer sink, oppressed In idlesse vain, and ignominious rest Would they now bare the steel and brace the helm, And strive the enslaving foe, whom they detest With one proud, fearful, glorious blaze to o'ervvhelm Whose twilight should gild even, the Sun of their bright Realm ! cxxxv. Mine own sweet Country ! what is like to thee, Even now though cloudy Discord for awhile* Obscure thine aspect's holy brilliancy And chase the living glories of thy smile Matchless, triumphant, Beatific Isle ! Oh ! may that smile return that gloom depart The deep o'erflowing of the all-hallowed Nile Of kindred blood within, ere long each heart Shall surely softening, melt, and heal each jealous smart. * Written during a period of popular commotion. THE VISIONARY. 121 CXXXVI. Where'er I go where'er I have ever been, Whate'er I have found to approve and to admire In distant lands disjoined, in alien scene Can but more fan the patriotic fire Within my Soul, and raise it proudly, higher My Country ! 't was thine own unaided might, Thy pufe ambition and thy large desire That raised thee too thine all pre-eminent height, And made thee shine supreme, robed round with Glory's light. CXXXVII. Not the all indulged, and spoiled and favourite child Wert thou of Nature, like Ausonia's Land All matchless in her wane, and, in her wild A prodigy of luxuriance ! though the brand Of Shame be on her brow the heavy hand Of Despotism upon her bowed neck yet How fair she shines, as though the Enchanter's wand Waved o'er her well may all but she forget, That 't is the Oppressor's scourge, and must that proud sun set ? 122 THE VISIONARY. CXXXVIII. Oh, Italy ! who is he that can roam Cold, uninspired through fields and groves like thine? Like Heaven like Heaven, thou universal home For all Mankind since to thy haunts divine They hurrying throng as pilgrims to the shrine To see how glorious Nature can be made How Art can even with undimmed lustre shine By her celestial Sister's side arrayed In Mind's own Light divine without a spot or shade. CXXXIX. I have looked from thy flowered fields, through thy clear air Up to the pomp of thy thrice glorious Skies I have loved all, all thou hast of bright and fair I have worshipped with deep inarticulate sighs, Fervent as prayers when they too speechless rise, All that thou hast of sacred ruinous gloom, Till ached with Adoration, heart and eyes, I have mused midst thy dread World of Shadows, Rome ! And hailed thy last-born Pride thine Apostolic Dome. THE VISIONARY. 123 CXL. Yea ! I have looked on thee, most glorious pile ; In moonlight and in sunshine, or when gloom Frowned round or twilight touched thee with pale smile. Thy gates once passed the great gates of the tomb Seem also passed ! and our brief years of doom Accomplished, for even like the vestibule Of Heaven art thou, and in thee there is room For boundless thoughts ! though sense be made the tool Through which the inspired, freed Soul, can shake off Earth's dull rule. CXLI. Rome ! Rome ! time was when thy great Freemen's swords Swayed all ! Time was when thy proud Pontiffs placed On mountainous Eminence, as Chiefs and Lords Of Earth's religious Polity ev'n as graced With powers unearthly that all power embraced, As Soldans of the World's great Soul, high reared Their Mitred heads stretched forth their hands and traced Their laws on every land the obeyed, the feared The Earth's all Imperial Ark, at their own will they steered. 124 THE VISIONARY. CXLII. And thou ! sweet Florence ! on thy smiling stream, Thy graceful Arno, thou hast many a claim To fondest admiration ! many a Dream Of joy arises at thy gentlest name The Heavenly Venus of all beauteous fame With glorified enchantment on her brow, Whose sov'ran aspect might a Savage tame And teach a dsemon, Love's sweet charm to avow ! And thou, rare pictured form transcendant Sybil thou ! CXLIII. Looking on thee, what deep emotions dart Through the thrilled soul that yields to their soft might, What gentle throbbings heave the o'ermastered heart While the air around thee grows one flood of light, What Spirit in thine eyes sits throned and bright ? We feel, we feel, from Earth's gross bondage free, We rivet upon thee our raptured sight 'T is rapture all ! for thou seem'st Heaven to see, And we, we are gazing thus, all breathlessly on thee! THE VISIONARY. 125 CXLIV. Thy look doth more transcendantly doth more Than Music's rapt Cecilia did, I deem, With all her charms and powers inspired of yore ; The Angel left for those Heaven's cloudless beam, But thou mak'st Earth unto our golden dream, A very Heaven indeed, and from thine eyes Do we receive the impressions that so teem Upon our spirits that they ascend the skies, Yet scarcely know the while, how high and far they rise ! CXLV. I have left thee now, Oh ! Inspiration's Land Cserulean, sunny, bright Ausonia yea I have left thee now for my loved native strand, But thy sweet name is writ with every ray Of thine own sunshine on my heart to essay To blot it thence were vain though thus won back To each old familiar and accustomed way, Those wonted ways perchance some charms may lack, But still we glide again, into the habitual track. 126 THE VISIONARY. CXLVI. CXLVII. Life hath but little change dull sameness 'tis The trivial change it hath 's monotonous A little fear and hope some pain, small bliss, Are not our destinies analogous ? Yet yet there is Variety for us Each in his secret bosom may behold The Mirror of Great Nature luminous Or dark according to the mystic mould In which his Nature 's cast till Life's brief tale is told. THE VISIONARY. 127 CXLVIII. Within, within may change perchance be found, Without but little difference seems to be ; Through thrice-refined Society look round What on its polished surface may you see, Save dull Mediocrity's monotony ? And if by accident some bright ray dart Through all the chill and torpor, quick and free, The mind whence that flashed forth soon learns its part, Soon arms itself with all, the subtle powers of art ! CXLIX. Art ! thou 'rt right lovely in thy proper place, Right lovely and right wond'rous but thou art vile Upon the living field of human face. With thine elaborate cunning and cold wile, Most loathsome of all things detested guile ! Art ! that on Earth thou mightest be put to shame With thy false show, and florid, flourished style I shudder at the whisper of thy name, Would, would that all might learn, to avow and feel the same. 128 THE VISIONARY. CL. Oh ! in some Souls there is sublimely found A fire an action a bright zeal's excess A scope a spring a vehemence without bound; A Passion and a sense of Power which dress Existence with a pomp of Consciousness ! Enthusiasm hath done the part of Death With these to each dim, each far, each veiled recess Of the Universe they pierce above beneath The Infinites they rejoin, i' the days of Mortal breath ! CLI. Such glorious souls, such gifted minds as these Their great thoughts will not miserably tame down Because all round them doth in torpor freeze ; Nor can they, shrinking from the World's harsh frown Their radiant natures tremblingly disown Art was not made for them they cannot seem That which they are not though untowardly thrown 'Mongst those who mine and countermine and scheme Distrusting each the rest barred even from self-esteem. THE VISIONARY. 129 CLII. Through clouds and darkness spread on every side We take our difficult and dubious way, Too oft impatient of a better guide Than our own Reason with its feeble ray That just around our path doth flickering play Only to cast a darkness more intense O'er the awful Mysteries which the Sons of clay With their weak faculties and bounded sense Can never pierce ! deep dread o'erpowering and im- mense. CLIII. That Reason was but given to us to illume Our temporary track and passage here When o'er dim time and far beyond the tomb And high above this low and petty sphere We would direct our gaze, 't is Faith must clear Our clouded, darken'd eyes Faith which alone Can be our beacon, when we fain would steer 'Mongst hidden marvels, Faith which even hath flown Where Knowledge ne'er can reach, to the Everlasting Throne. 130 THE VISIONARY. CLIV. We cannot understand ourselves strange 't is That man should seek his Maker to detect All fathomless our springs of pain and bliss, And can we in fatuity expect To search His Being? if we are bleakly wrecked On the despair of a bright Faith undone That awful punishment may Heaven direct As meetest for our Sin ! thus, thus we have won But ignorance more complete struck blind by that dread Sun. CLV. How dare we hope to sound that Boundlessness Which hath nor length nor breadth nor depth nor height, To reach that Majesty's supreme Excess Far easier 't were to grasp and weigh the Light, To paint the Wind on its mysterious flight, Than to trace that Existence far beyond The Arch-angel's comprehension keenly bright, Let us forsake rash fancies crude and fond, Nor with presumption soar nor with weak faith despond. THE VISIONARY. 131 CLVI. Still let us be content to adore not know Oh ! what wert Thou could we unravel thee ! Yea ! let us humbly be content, below To acknowledge Thou still unapproached must be, And make ourselves thy favoured Family. Enough on Earth remains for us to do For our brief span is not Eternity, Our days are short, and rapid as they are few, And soon our little lease is dimly hurried through. CLVII. A mote in the eye can shut out the great Sun Borne on his thousand thousand golden wheels, A slight sound close to the ear can sting and stun A vague doubt which the heart within us feels Can bar us from the Universe ! So steels The Soul 'gainst strong Conviction some Caprice Of reasoning most fallacious, and so seals Our doom some ignoble and petty vice That hides from jaundiced eyes Good's noblest Edifice. 132 THE VISIONARY. CLVIII. How strictly should we look through our own minds Our own deceitful hearts, day after day Where Sin innate, inherent binds and blinds, And countless passions stand in dread array Leave one unchecked, how soon its reckless sway Spreads fierce confusion and distraction round In the ominous Conflagration, each sweet ray Of truth, peace, hope, is lost while without bound It onward sweeps and all bowed to its rule is found. CLIX. Alas ! even thus a slight Grief oft hath power To embitter all the comforts that we share, To o'ercloud the present and the future hour, And fill our days with suffering and with care, Till drop by drop, too surely doth it wear The withering heart away. 1 have known such grief, And I have known too the phrenzies of Despair, And though awhile its rage may spurn relief, This last is easier borne since its fierce reign is brief. THE VISIONARY. 133 CLX. Wherefore this change and whence? I deemed 'twas past, I deemed 't was all, all o'er little we know Or what we are or may become ! at last I feel how we deceive in bliss or woe Ourselves profoundly ever and bestow Care infinite such deceit to improve ; dark Life, Thou web of wonders ! onwards as I go The more dost thou perplex me ; thou art rife Of endless mysteries still, or in thy calm or strife. CLXI. 134 THE VISIONARY. CLXII. Joy lit his torch a moment in my path To show me but my Griefs extreme extent, My Grief of After and Before ! that breath, That sweet and summer breath appeared but lent To bring forth tenderest blooms soon to be blent With all the faded flowers of Love and Hope Which were the reliques without hue or scent Of hours like them all withered let them droop And die as those have done ! with fate no more I cope. CLXIII. Hence, hence, misleading Hope ! no more intrude, Leave me ! too faithless Hope ! for thou hast done Worse mischief in an hour than grief hath brewed In years leave me Oh ! most perfidious One, Oh ! Irresistible ! to lean upon Thy staff a spear, to clasp thy rock a rack, Too fondly I have been, and still am prone, But I will hunt thee to thine aerie back, Thy far nest in the clouds, though all beneath look black ! THE VISIONARY. 135 CLXIV. Sorrow ! I choose thee court thee am all thine, Thy pensive charms have deeply, wholly won My heart and soul and all that is of mine I would be thine, pale shadowy Queen alone ! Hope restless and deceitful, hence, begone I banish thee with thy too constant train Of doubts and fears and pangs 'tis lost, 'tis flown, The only Star that could with tranquil reign Govern my Soul's deep tides I demand back my pain ! CLXV. To occupy and fill a feeling heart There is enough in ever varied life Without enacting a conspicuous part Without commingling in its noisy strife, If once Endurance hath with keen cold knife Lopped off the excrescences of selfish hope And a sweet form hath risen like Pluto's wife, Smiling o'er Life's stern Stygian gloom to stoop, Whose name Submission is then, then no more we droop ; 136 THE VISIONARY. CLXVI. Then gush the deep heart's hallowed Springs again, For others 't is we feel fain would we learn Or to redress their sufferings and their pain Or sympathizingly with them to mourn Nor proudly ask for Gratitude's return, Let us ne'er think of that, nor dare to expect ! Yet shall we most indisputably earn A solemn, sweet reward, nor shall be wrecked On the worst, dreariest shore of harsh self-disrespect. CLXVII. When from our hold our long-loved treasures slip Oh ! when we strip our Idols of their dress, 'T where better did we our own folly strip, For our own folly and our own excess Have wrought us harm and manifold distress ; Fate may pursue us angrily below, But we ourselves do oft-times darkly press The yoke of stern Adversity and Woe More on our shoulders still as we would have it so ! THE VISIONARY. 137 CLXVIII. We are the fools of our own foolish hearts The Slaves of our own Vanity's excess And lay our bosoms open to the darts 1 And stings of Fortune thus, too blindly yes, Our phantasies our frailties none may guess They may not numbered be by mortal tongue, The veil the enshrouding veil we may confess Were well withdrawn o'er our false Idols flung, 'Twere better were that raised which o'er ourselves hath hung ! CLXIX. Our weakness our vanities rest sure Are ever our most dire and deadly foes ; If we would seek and find for ills a Cure, We must arise from perilous repose, And the Actual State of our own Minds disclose Even to ourselves, that by the roots we may Pluck up the plant of Evil ere it grows Too strong and stubborn our weak hands to obey, All undecaying then, save with our Own decay. 138 THE VISIONARY. CLXX. Ten thousand trifles fling their clouds of dust In our duped eyes ; and with close trammels bind In lightest toys we place our solemn trust, To our immortal interests madly blind ; We hurry on in hope at length to find That which we promise to ourselves until In the creation of our own vain mind We do put faith, and seek with stubborn Will That Paradise unseen of our Pretension still. CLXXI. The Paradise of our Presumption ! which We deem we should possess, as though thou wert, Happiness our own sweet fee, bright and rich ! Oh ! Happiness ! our due and our desert ! We dare dream that, supine and all inert We thus shall merit thee ! rash fancy vain ! While haughtily and fiercely heaves the heart Defyingly 'gainst earthly ills and pain, But these shall come and must, with Death too in their train. THE VISIONARY. 139 CLXXII. There are, who from the worst of Slavery freed The Slavery of the Tyrannous treacherous will, Devote each hour, each thought, each word, and deed Unto the good of others and fulfil Nobly their destinies and finely thrill With high and holy and august desires, These, nothing know of the benumbing chill Of narrow Selfishness their Soul aspires To free and airy heights, nor on its proud flight tires. CLXXIII. These draw ev'n from the depths of their own minds Their strong support their cheer, their recompense; Unshaken by Life's varying tides and winds, And fired by one pure blameless hope intense And by a never-sleeping, fervent sense Of solemn Duty, they shape their bright course Through Fate's involving shadows deep and dense, Not theirs the ills that spring from Guilt's stained source, Nor theirs pale Discontent nor stinging sharp Remorse. 140 THE VISIONARY. CLXXIV. To exalt to benefit to improve Mankind To magnify their Maker's name divine, They live alone, each pettier hope resigned, That generous purpose they will not resign Though they may baffled and discouraged pine With saint-like patience strengthened, they arise At last to see the Star celestial shine, The sweet Star of Success before their eyes Which pours o'er all the Earth, the brightness of the skies. CLXXV. Such those have been who have toiled through the steep ways Of hard and difficult Science self-sustained And dedicated all their studious days To deep and lone research, those who have refrained From self-indulgence and at once disdained The low and little pleasures of the Earth, And all the petty miseries that have pained Their feelings human still ; their 's is a worth That sheds a lustre pure, o'er all of human birth. THE VISIONARY. 141 CLXXVI. They suffered yes ! they suffered, for Life hath No fortunate clime exempt from pain and woe, Sharp briars and thorns o'errun its fairest path, And none may 'scape dark Sorrow's rule below But their high hearts could proud and tameless glow With dreams beyond Ambition's haughtiest dreams And heavenly fountains soothed them with their flow, And cloudless Suns illumed them with their beams To which their thoughts lent yet, more bright and glorious gleams ! CLXXVII. Such noble minds for Truth unwearied seek And for that truth's divine and honoured sake, Bear scorn and wrong full oft, with sufferance meek, And many a scoff from the distrustful take For slow must be the progress that they make Long must they plod and slave ere they arrive At their deep object and ere they can shake Dull Error's mantle from Men's minds and give Clear proofs of what they vouch long, long 't is theirs to strive. 142 THE VISIONARY. CLXXVIII. They take a great Truth in its infant state, And with a nursing Theory they surround As though you would place a Palm of the earliest date Within a crystal Urn's transparent bound But lo ! it springs, thrives, sprouts, spreads, nor is found Place in the vessel to its nurture given At length with stateliest strength and vigour crown'd, Behold ! the while it upwards shoots towards Heaven, That frail shell it bursts through split shattered shivered riven ! CLXXIX. Even so it happens oft i' the World of Thought, When after zealous toil and pains profound To imprison some grand Truth when thus they have wrought And planned and raised a skeleton structure round, Their glorious Charge expanding, scorns its bound, Opening out branch by branch, before their eyes ! While fall their laboured Systems to the ground Their speculative schemes ! how doth it rise, Shrouding its sovereign head, in the all o'ershado wing skies ! THE VISIONARY. 143 CLXXX. They must take up the fractured fragments, then And to their noble work unchecked, return, They must commence their labours o'er again, Those fragments yet may in some mightier urn Be brought to use, then shall they humbly learn, While the heightening, strengthening, widening, wakening Truth Appears to escape from them, that they must spurn Their own beginnings faulty and uncouth, Nor seek the Giant growth, to swathe as in its Youth. CLXXXI. Their own beginnings ? oft, too oft alas ! Those who first pierced the gloom and led the way Have passed away from Earth whence all must pass Ere the orient dawning of the auspicious Day Which saw success, supreme success, repay The efforts of the diligent ah ! not theirs, Who the first effort made the first essay, Who cheered alone by Hope's inspiring airs, Stern difficulties dared and plunged midst deepening cares. 144 THE VISIONARY. CLXXXII. How different from those thoughtful Sages meek, The Candidates for Worldly good and gain ! Though all as strenuously they toil and seek To satisfy their thirst to shine or reign, Though dreams as full and complex crowd their brain, And fiercer agitation rock their days How narrow seem their views, their hopes how vain, How miserably the prize the toil repays, The gew-gaws of vain state the Conqueror's blood- dyed bays. CLXXX1II. On stern atchievement wreaked they their proud minds, And stern atchievement hath raised these to fame, And while Ambition's cloud Man's judgment blinds, Thousands will risk Life, Peace, Heaven for a name ; Throughout all ages it hath been the same Still when not made atrocious by Excess, 'Tis a right noble passion ! and a flame, Which Man is not all called on to suppress But in how few 't is seen, due Temperance to possess ! THE VISIONARY. 145 CLXXXIV. Build not your hopes of Happiness upon The ruins of another's broken hope, 'Tis worse than folly when the prize is won, Soon to the heavy truth your eyes shall ope How shall ye then, 'mid self-reproaches droop, For Conscience shall assail ye with a sting That finds the Soul's quick vitals, why then stoop To ignoble Selfishness ? rise, rise and wring The accursed drop from the heart shed from some deadly spring. CLXXXV. From your too fond embrace should straight be wrenched That dangerous Idol Self ! perchance ye deem That in that marble Selfishness entrenched You 're safe from common griefs, mistaken dream ! The Egotist's breast shall ever darkly teem With countless shapes of fear, and doubt, and ill, Each slight and small mischance to him shall seem A dire misfortune while with gloomy skill He builds on lightest grounds, his faint forebodings still. 146 THE VISIONARY. CLXXXVI. Who would be happy must make others so, Or nobly work to that praiseworthy end Must soothe the Sufferer's pangs, the Wretch's woe, And of the Friendless prove the unchanging friend ; Then, then nor time nor fate from him shall rend The sweet calm sense of self-approval meek, Which shall with every hallowed feeling blend, And shed o'er every path though rough and bleak, A glow more pure than e'er laughed o'er Aurora's cheek. CLXXXVII. That Kindliness of feeling it shall prove Betwixt his heart, and light and common woes A wall of Adamant the Spirit of Love A guardian Seraph dwells in the hearts of those Whose breast with blameless, pure Affection glows, The thought of Self not ever uppermost Reigns in their souls and so they find repose Not on the waves of cold Suspense still tost But where shall these be found, on bleak Life's sterile THE VISIONARY. J47 CLXXXVIII. CLXXXIX. Professions and pretensions these things seem The staple of the World's impoverished mart And all indeed a vapour and a dream 'T were well to dwell from its thronged scenes apart. Vain, vain it is to coin the very heart, To gain what 's oftener gained by chance or fraud While we are left to disappointment's smart ! Let us those wiser, nobler Spirits laud, That are not by this World, deceived, or pleased, or awed ! L 2 148 THE VISIONARY. CXC. You shall see oft its fairest favours thrust On him, who careless and unheeding, shews No wish to obtain them oft, oft on the unjust, The time-servers, the extortioners, and on those Who ne'er their own vile characters disclose, And still distrust all others evermore As though their fellows must be found their foes With jealous hatred deep in their heart's core How oft on these the World, doth its just favours pour! CXCI. We are we act we fancy that we bear, While Life's great Engine works with ceaseless stir, In the loud general business our own share, And start to rash Excitement's sudden spur, And spin our shred and stem while we incur Shipwreck by such vain daring Fate's strong wave, While Peace for which we all our prayers prefer Perchance would come did we not rail and rave Still 'gainst our doom Joy Joy ? that dwells beyond the grave. THE VISIONARY. 149 CXCII. All think that others must be happier far, Less tempted and less tried and less opprest Than they themselves in their condition are They know the secrets of their own dark breast ! Could they as clearly read those of the rest They might judge differently it matters not ! Each is of Earth the temporary guest Soon shall his little troubles be forgot, When the great Leveller comes, to fix his final Lot. CXCIII. Oh ! be ye sure that each his part doth bear, Of the great yoke of Universal Pain ! Howe'er to us the surface may appear, Could we the bosom probe to ascertain The truth and the whole truth, we should refrain From querulous murmurs, and from captious plaints How many that strive the smiles of Joy to feign, Know how the heart beneath its anguish faints, While wretchedness is theirs Expression's skill ne'er paints. J50 THE VISIONARY. CXCIV. All wear the links of the long galling chain Those who from Pomp and Pleasure seek vain aids, And haply those who from Life's busy train Apart, dwell calm in Home's sequestered shades, If no specific ill their peace invades, Perchance too well aware are they how brief That hollow peace may prove how quickly fades Each flower of Joy each hue of Love, and chief, How soon from Life's book torn, shall be their finished leaf. cxcv. Surely it is the heaviest grief of all, To feel i' the midst of every dear delight How soon the dull, deep universal pall Shall hide our close clasped treasures from our sight, Lost in the bottomless abyss of night ; To know the heart's own living tendrils round Sweet shapes ephemeral fragile as they are bright Are with a desperate vain persistance wound, To feel our towers of trust soon, soon must strew the ground. THE VISIONARY. 151 CXCVI. Perchance the wretch who nothing hath to fear Since he hath nought to lose, whose restless glance Seeks still some prospect to console or cheer, To whom like dearest friends seem Change and Chance, Who dwells for ever in a shadowy trance Of aimless hope, may almost be more blest Than those who shuddering see, too swift advance The ruthless Tyrant at whose dire behest, Of their rich treasured stores, they must be dispossessed. CXCVII. And is the difference then so deep and wide Between the happy and the wretched here? No ! while on this frail Earth we must abide, While we are Sojourners of this dim sphere Closely allied must be the smile and tear, While Time and Death maintain their iron sway, And dark Uncertainty, and doubt and fear Make all their trembling vassals Say, oh ! say Can there much difference be indeed, 'twixt clay and clay ? 152 THE VISIONARY. CXCVIIL If for a moment o'er the woe-worn mind A ray of joy with blinding brightness play, How vivid Oh ! how exquisite, how refined, That welcome, rare, and overpowering ray ! It sheds the radiance of etherial day Throughout the whole Existence, every thought And feeling own the sweet despotic sway Of rapture then, the bosom's depths are fraught With full ecstatic dreams, exuberant and o'erwrought. CXCIX. Ah ! when I loved thee deeply but in vain, If through the heavy darkness round me spread, One gleam of hope shot kindling to my brain, How seemed I then, on Air and Light to tread, From hard reality too dull and dead, Snatched in a moment to the purple Land Of laughing Visions and all gently led Through paths of Gladness, by an unseen hand, How did I feel my Soul, soar, quicken and expand. THE VISIONARY. 153 CC. Now that calm reason and monotonous years, Have ta'en away the point and edge of pain, And dried the o'erflowing source of passionate tears, Such moments come no more ! though I would fain Coin even my very vitals to regain Those dear-bought dreams at times ! So bright, So glorious were they, without one dull stain Of Earth to lessen their supreme delight, Like those fair shadowless Worlds, that only shine at night. CCI. Yes ! willingly at times would I endure Mine own most costly wretchedness once more ! That lent me joys thus perfect and thus pure Could I but dream as I have dreamt before, Could I but feel to the heart's quivering core That flash of rapturous Ecstasy, that did mock All common happiness that lightened o'er Mine inmost being riving the dull rock Of a chilled deadened heart, with its electric shock. 154 THE VISIONARY. ecu. Nature hath dowered some beings 't is most plain, With finer capabilities of joy, With keener sensibilities of pain, But say, oh ! ye who your deep thoughts employ On human study pleasure or annoy Shall this yield to them ? Since alas ! below Too soon falls broken every gilded toy Of hope from our vain hold ; but pain and woe These pass not from us thus these, these depart not so. CCIII. Their inclinations may be stronger too Through chequered life to evil and to good, But where temptations evermore pursue Their toiling steps, hard, hard to be withstood, Oft this must fatal prove, for still they're wooed Unto the broad and smooth and smiling way, And when unguarded in light heedless mood, May be in hapless moments led astray, And plunged in dark remorse whose debt they trebly pay. THE VISIONARY. 155 CCIV. But when these do succeed in their most hard And painful struggle, shall they not secure A more exalted and sublime reward, Than those who less resist and less endure, Who have not found so many things to allure, So many things to combat in the years Of mortal life whose trials have been fewer, And fewer too whose triumphs ? Yea ! their tears Shall all be wiped away and soothed their trembling fears. ccv. Might I but claim to be 'mongst those enrolled, But no ! such claims I must perforce resign, Though cast like them in quick and passionate mould, Alas ! no such high merit may be mine. I can but offer to the throne Divine My penitence mine infirmities my tears My once-bright hopes in their faint dim decline ; The ruins and the shadows of wrecked years, All that my Soul desires, and all my crushed heart bears. ]56 THE VISIONARY. CCVI. If sufferings heavy sufferings sharp and deep In this poor mortal state this Earthly sphere Endured might ever claim and sweetly reap A blest reward on high, then, then though here, I weep, hereafter without doubt or fear, I might expect, to enjoy ! that dreariest pain Must ever now be mine, to which no tear Can bring relief, the thought that ne'er again Long withered hopes can bloom in woe-worn heart or brain. CCVII. Linger awhile, dear thoughts of bygone joys, And then subside and sink for evermore, For too much memory of the Past destroys The Present ! I must wend on to the shore Of my repose unmurmuring ! nor deplore With impious grief, that some sweet boons bestowed In mercy on me may be mine no more ; Still midst the ills that crowd along my road, Some few faint Joys remain, to lighten Care's dull load. THE VISIONARY. ]57 CCVIII. Still as we on our pilgrimage must go, 'Twere better were our eyes reverted not, Why should we wish to chain our quick hearts so To what is past and perished of our lot The Present's cloud-veiled sun glows not too hot Why should we seek to tame it down, and lean Ever to what is lost until forgot What i* appears, at last, in what hath been, And sevenfold Shadows cross, Life's alway shadowy scene ! CCIX. Oh, Happiness, too lovely and too vain, We doat on thee not knowing thee and grind Our hearts to dust in thy name and all pain Endure, all danger dare, if thou behind Appearest to shine ! as one who stands to find Glory in Nature's Aspect and bright glow Near some clear crystal pane, while all resign 'd To view, not grasp is safe, is blest, (not so If he stretch forth his hands, to snatch and seize that show!) 158 THE VISIONARY. ccx. Even thus, those dreamers, who content with dreams, Seek not oh ! Phantom-Deity adored, Oh ! Happiness ! thou end of countless Schemes, To strain thee close enriched with their bright hoard Of glowing fancies, that have sweetly soared Boyond this nether World ; even thus may they Escape, from Disappointment's arrows stored In Fate's dark quivers, for the heavy day When those who fondly hope, shall find hope melt away. CCXI. When those who fondly hope and keenly seek, Shall painfully and uselessly repent Those dreamers still as from some cloud-capped peak, Shall look down on Delight and be content ! Not on a vain pursuit, persistent bent, Not urged and hurried on a troublous quest, They lightly on the unstable reed have leant ! Perchance beyond the Worldling's dreams, ev'n blest, Is the quick heart that thrills, deep in the Enthusiast's breast. THE VISIONARY. 159 CCXII. Of all the wretches on this changeful Earth I pity most those Sons of chance and doom, The dull Materialists ! who in the dearth Of all exalted feelings and i' the gloom Of their own darkened minds, mid all the bloom And brightness which at times is showered around Their steps, build up into one massive tomb, The great Creation's vastness blind and bound, Emulous of the worm aspiring to the ground ! CCXIII. Those who all bright ennobling hopes resign, Who nail their soul down to its clog of clay Who turn from Revelations, bless'd, divine, Enamoured of corruption and decay ! Who spurn each guiding light, each gracious stay And their unheavenly God perversely make Harsh, tyrannous, blind Necessity oh ! say Shall they not yet too fearfully awake, To see their Soulless God's, material Temple shake ! 160 THE VISIONARY. CCXIV. If Accidents are burthened with our fates And no presiding Power doth rule our doom, Then mad indeed is he who aggravates The measure of his ill by thoughtful gloom ; No ! from the Cradle to the Yawning Tomb, Which by no Accident we ere escape, Let us but weave bright threads in our poor loom, And revel in the course we may not shape, Man's Gods should then be all, the Poppy and the Grape. ccxv. If ye must round Existence with a dream, Oh ! take a nobler course a prouder flight Let brighter visions on your rapt Souls beam, Nor pile the shadows of Eternal Night Around ye ! are ye then in your own sight The slaves of arbitrary Elements But names and hollow words are Wrong and Right ? Are Truth and Falsehood then but accidents Do Destiny Life, Worlds All hang on chance- brought Events? THE VISIONARY. 161 CCXVI. Are Heaven and Earth and all the arch wonders dread And deep, spread forth through broad, unbounded space, But Accidents ? cold, aimless, void and dead And dare ye say so, in their glorious face ? Oh ! when we stoop high feelings so to erase From our immortal souls, we then become Our own vile Miscreators weak and base The aspiring Spirits Heaven gave us, we entomb I'the nethermost pit profound, of deep and hopeless gloom. CCXVII. Are our own Judgments Accidents ? and forced Upon our Minds against our own consent Those thoughts we dreamed had with the wild Winds coursed On their triumphant way but Accident ? All Chance and blind Necessity ? repent Ye Dreamers, cold, and dull and vain, and seek Your errors to repair for ye are bent Beneath a tyrannous yoke in sooth, and weak To bear it seem would ye, retrace your footsteps, speak ? 1(52 THE VISIONARY. CCXVIII. How in a thousand ways doth man contrive To abase his Nature, and to enthrall his fate, Himself of noblest prospects to deprive To embrute his feelings and to o'ercloud his state, Ungladdened by the soaring hopes and great Which Heaven permitteth him to indulge alas ! That we in our own proud cause should abate All zealous ardour, satisfied to amass Earth's dross and nurse Earth's dreams while all things round us pass. CCXIX. Delusion on delusion ! for we view Our towers of trust incontinently fall, Only to seek to upraise them and renew And deem the fault was utterly and all In the light superstructure so the thrall Of a false hope we bear, nor deign to own The true, real failing nor consent to call The weak foundations wrong again o'erthrown And oft again shall be, those towers, till all lie prone ! THE VISIONARY. ]63 ccxx. Perchance at length we may confess too late, Foundation superstructure scite and plan Materials mould and model, wrong and date Our sufferings from the time when we began With boastful Independence, which frail Man Doth well to avoid to take our own proud pajth With dreams presumptuous, Hope's quick fires to fan, To build those Citadels of reeds and lath While round us then shall frown, the impending storms of wrath. CCXXT. Then may we heavily lament and groan O'er our poor schemes of policy and pride, Our dreams, our hopes and our illusions flown A dreary desert spread on every side ! Then shall sad memories wound the soul allied With sharp regrets and self-reproaches deep For many a selfish act we then shall chide Ourselves full harshly and dejected weep O'er our own evil deeds nor shall roused Conscience sleep. M2 164 THE VISIONARY. CCXXII. 'T were well to learn that lesson, best of all The holy lesson to forgive, and think How we forgiveness need ! how we should call For pardon much and oft but we do wink At our own faults ! not only on the brink Of ruin do we stand for Sins more bold 'Gainst Heaven, and more immediate, but should drink Repentance' bitter waters, and enfold Ourselves in sackcloth too for sins 'gainst Man untold. CCXXIII. Yet we conceive that we can be alone Oppressed and wronged, and injured and aggrieved, And full of maudlin self-compassion, groan To think we are or abandoned, or bereaved ! And where we placed our foolish trust, deceived For how dare we midst creatures weak and frail, Seek out perfection as though we believed The exclusive right was ours to fall and fail Fallible to be found and wanting in the scale ! THE VISIONARY. 165 CCXXIV. We punish more ourselves too, much, much more, By nursing that most hideous Passion's brood Black, foul Revenge, within our bosom's core, Spite rancour bitterness, than the spilt blood Of our loathed enemies could harm them ! Good For Evil to return ! law worthiest Heaven ! May that be practised, honoured, understood. Let each forgive as all would be forgiven, And multiply and bless, the old seventy times seven ! ccxxv. Then shall we happier be, and cast a load From off our souls ! Oh! bright and matchless rule Seventy times seven, let us well bestowed Our pardons freely give then shall the fool Learn wisdom from Example's easy school, The Avenger stay his arm and waive his aim- Catching the bless'd infection, and a tool May we become of Providence to shame The bad to better deeds, the inhuman heart to tame. 166 THE VISIONARY. CCXXVI. How few do this ! how often do we strive Rather than to cool down our senseless ire By every studious means, to keep alive The burning coals of discord nor desire That these should sink and languish and expire ; We magnify each petty slight offence To injuries and aggressions deep and dire, And draw a sickly pleasure even from thence, Fostering in our warped minds of wrong an o'ervvrought sense. CCXXVII. Upon our mortal journey evermore, As we all stumbling, staggering, shuffling wend, Even though Conviction smite us to the core Still, still we seek our conduct to defend In lieu of labouring to improve and mend, Still the same worthless objects we pursue, And on the same wrong aims unchanging tend Nor strive to exalt, nor clear our mental View To adopt a nobler course pure, upright, virtuous, true. THE VISIONARY. 167 CCXXVIII. And still we twist and trim and forge and feign, Till dizzied, vexed, perplexed, there comes the hour When we would willingly retrace in vain Our steps alas ! 't is not then in our power So long to skim or plod, and skulk or scour Along vile crooked ways 't was ours, we turn To these instinctively and crouch and cower Along and vainly, vainly may we yearn Another track to attempt and Art's base lore to unlearn ! CCXXIX. Life full of errors and mistakes thou art, And cold Experience comes too late too late To shield the suffering soul and arm the heart ! Only to mock our griefs and aggravate Thou comestmethinks, pale posthumous child of Fate. Ah ! wherefore come at all if still in vain, Officious and perverse ? thou that dost wait To shed thy tardy gleams through breast and brain, Like corpse-lights o'er the Dead, o'er days and deeds i' the wane. 168 THE VISIONARY. ccxxx. What art thou Life ? with all thy mystic things, Thine idols, treasures, pageants, spells, delights Thy clouds and rainbows and thy rocks and springs, Thy soft Elysian breezes and stern blights ? What art thou ? with thy smile that still invites Beguiles us still to meet the withering check Of thy cold frown's repulse when the soul bites The bitter dust of its own clay ! a wreck, A ruin, and thy skies lend, not one faint luminous speck ! CCXXXI. At times I have felt as though Life's slackened strings Were all unwound, while its clogged wheels stood still, While folded were swift Thought's careering wings, It was not with, nor yet against my will, But there I stood resigned, nor good nor ill, Nor chance nor change affected me a pause Came o'er Existence nor did ache nor thrill This restless Soul that hovered in the jaws Of cold Obstruction then nor sought the effect's veiled cause ! THE VISIONARY. 169 CCXXXII. Besides the common sorrows that we share, Mysterious, shadowy griefs the Soul oppress, We may not sift them, nor dissect them there Nor of their birth nor origin can guess Veiled in the secret bosom's sealed recess, But we become against our will their prey, And bend us to a dreamy, vain Distress Still plodding on, our dull and beaten way And bearing the cold cares, and griefs of every day. CCXXXIII. But if mysterious sorrows we endure Profound unearthly raptures thrill us too Etherial fervent beatific pure For ever welcome and for ever new, And both proclaim the Soul is journeying through An alien Country a far foreign Land Where endless ills and miseries must pursue While still the glorious Traveller 's oft-times fanned By mighty Airs from Home now keen, now heavenly bland. 170 THE VISIONARY. CCXXXIV. Yea ! verily we are mystically made How many a link and vein, and tint and tone How many a delicate trace and transient shade Of thought and feeling do we wondering own, Whose ends and sources are alike unknown; Not to this World seem they to appertain, Like precious seeds within our deep Souls sown. Subject awhile to dull Corruption's stain, Till in Existence new Mind bursts its wintry chain. ccxxxv. Ere broken to the World's monotonous yoke, What petty things can shake us and surprise, A light touch then can like a thunderstroke Come down upon the Soul which vainly tries To keep its own proud flight around it rise A thousand threatening forms too sensitive Neglect, Unkindness wound it, till faint dies Its passionate hope, beneath the shocks they give, And that once lost, no more 'gainst pitiless Fate 't will strive ! THE VISIONARY. 171 CCXXXVI. Fatal Discouragement ! none, none may know What noble faculties thou hast sunk and crushed; The minds most rarely finely strung below, O'er which Heaven's brightest colours loveliest blush'd, Have felt thee haply deepest they that rushed All fire, all feeling, onward to the goal ! Chatter ton ! Bird of Paradise ! how gushed Thy heart's blood forth ! Oh ! Amaranth of the Soul, Rare Star of Life ! when thou receivedst its bitter dole. CCXXXVII. And thou too, Keats ! whose quick and glowing mind Wrapt itself in a shroud of lucid words, Who left the grosser, colder Earth. behind, And with seraphic touch thrilled tenderest chords How did Discouragement of thy bright hoards Of fancy thee defraud and to the core Of thine Existence strike since most it lords O'er such as thee who gaze and who adore, Who well know how to admire a bright but fatal lore. 172 THE VISIONARY. CCXXXVIII. He from whose lips most precious words distilled, Which fragrance, light, love, music sweetly shed He led the heart and spirit as he willed, And with ambrosia every thought he fed Even from the chilly Empire of the Dead, His themes come full of life and heat and power, Those words like fabled Love's own arrows sped, Thrill through our Souls and o'er them softly shower A heavenly light of bliss through many a raptured hour ! CCXXXIX. A thousand blessings he to those hath left, Whose cold curse checked his being's mighty springs, While of each rich expectancy bereft, He sunk to the earth despite his glorious wings Which should have raised him far o'er ground-born things ! A thousand blessings he hath left to those Who wrought his wretchedness, hark ! hark ! he sings, He charms away our sufferings and our woes With Life alone with Life were his ordained to close. THE VISIONARY. J73 CCXL. And thus the gifts which Nature made his own Enrich us, but impoverished him indeed By them was he betrayed, by them undone, Through them his bosom was constrained to bleed Through them his fall was compassed, 't was decreed That his sweet lyre should be his flower-wreathed rack, His magic sceptre prove a faithless reed, His golden weapons on himself flung back, Should crush him down to the Earth while all grew chill and black. CCXLI. How many that sorrow o'er thy hapless fate, That feel themselves, sweet Bard ! those fires divine, Whose minds are charged with a refulgent freight Of sun-bright, Heaven-born phantasies shall twine Their Hopes with other states of being thine Remembering in their wreck and in their blight Nor seek in life's vain narrow lists to shine, Veiling their treasures from the scorner's sight, And soothing their checked souls, by many a far, stolen flight. 174 THE VISIONARY. CCXLII. Ah me ! methinks that many on this dull Earth The highest of the high it well may be, Are hidden to the charnel from the birth Haply in a profound Humility; Haply because their Nature fine and free, Yet quick and warm, and meekly soft and deep, Keeps them, midst Earth's uproarious grief and glee From apposite demonstration so they reap Silently Peace' sweet Fruits, till they in silence sleep. CCXLIII. Who would be this World's favourites must consent To have no will, no feelings of their own, But to its will, to be conformed and bent To hang upon its chariot wheels be blown By its vile breath to any shape, then shown Belike as the object of its sport! its smile Must be their vitals' vitals, and its frown Their doom, their terror, their perdition, while Even at its bidding they, must curb their minds and file. THE VISIONARY. 175 CCXLIV. True, some have made its honours all their own, The while those honours they even seemed to slight Born as 't were on their Earth-o'ergazing Throne Receiving its deep homage as their right, But they had not to climb the difficult height Of steep Ambition, step by step and hold By every vile weed in their dubious plight That fringed their path, half-bedded in the mould Lest that their foot should fail and they sink, down- wards rolled. CCXLV. Yet hath it truly been so ? we hear now Eternal honour coupled with their name, But while they deigned not to accede nor bow To this World's arrogant dictates, nor could tame Their Spirits to its level wrong and blame Pursued them be ye sure ; ere bright Success And haply posthumous and tardy Fame Gave them to Glory ! How dost thou suppress Oh World ! the expanding Soul and make its triumphs less. 176 THE VISIONARY. CCXLVI. Ivy oft wraps the tree which it hath killed With falsest semblance, and like that same tree, Or Oak or Elm appear too subtly skilled To weave itself round every branch and be Its mimic parasite, and as we see Its traitorous murderer too, but thus afar The eye deceived, may well deem fair and free, Rises the original tree, which stripp'd and bare Might envy the scathed trunk Seamed with Heaven's thunder scar ! CCXLVII. Its own proud foliage 'tis constrained to doff And o'er its own dire ruin smile and shine ; To crush and drain its strength was not enough, In vilest mockery must that Ivy twine Around its Victim in its faint decline To treachery adding insult, and cold scorn, To harsh oppression ! Say, could you divine, The Forest's lofty child was thus forlorn, Gazing on its veiled frame ?~of strength, life, beauty, shorn ? THE VISIONARY: 177 CCXLVIII. Could you behold the branches so despoiled, Those funeral-garlands could you but displace That closely round in serpent-folds are coiled With fell luxuriance and with deadly grace, Then should you mournfully and clearly trace The havoc and the devastation wrought By that false foe within whose death-embrace Within whose toils inextricably caught, Piecemeal to perish slow, the unhappy tree is taught. CCXLIX. Doth not the world with all its Arts do so, Withering Existence to the very roots Deceiving by a vain factitious show Hindering the natural growth of healthful shoots And blossomy promise fair while it pollutes And ruins its poor Victim and yet more Loading each blasted bough with Dead-Sea fruits (Bloom at the face, corruption at the core) Of Vanity, vile, weak, and worthless evermore. N 178 THE VISIONARY. CCL. To unlock another's secret soul would be For us a priceless lesson for we look Too superficially on all we see, Nor ope the deepest pages of the book ! Not only could we bare by powerful stroke Of magic the true depths of mighty hearts, But could we search each close and curtained nook Of humblest breasts, 't would teach us more than arts Or sciences can teach to act more rational parts ! CCLI. 'T would shew us how vile littlenesses creep O'er pure and generous feelings, and 't would shew How the overboiling passion-fountains steep The mind in trouble and in gloom below; Oh ! we should see how much of bitterest woe Man brings upon himself! yet though ne'er shewn With all their secrets and strange mysteries, so Can others breasts be one, one may be known Which we neglect to unmask and scorn to sound our Own! [END OF CANTO n.] TO THE SEA. Music is living in thy breast in thy deep and awful breast. Oh ! thou astounding Sea and dread in thy restlessness and rest Now 't is a murmur now a roar now a murmur and a roar, While heaves and quakes and thrills and groans the ever- echoing shore ; What harmony in every change is found, proud Main ! in thee, What music hangs on thy deep lips oh ! sounding- sounding Sea ! N2 180 THE SEA - Splendour is on thy glorious face ! thou most transcen- dant Main ! Whether the Sun there doubly lives, or shines Night's starry train 'Tis now a sparkle now a blaze now a blaze and sparkle too Till thou look'st all made of golden fire yet tinged with the sapphire's blue What splendours still are found in thee, with every change to agree What glory and what sovereignty oh ! Royal, Royal Sea! EPITAPH. Lie lightly, Earth ! on the most blameless breast That ever was consigned to Thee and Rest. Lie lightly on the dear unconscious dust Which to thy chill embraces we entrust, For though we know the Soul that once could warm The poor decaying and forsaken form Yet lives and ever shall remain the same, Still Feeling lingers round the once-loved Frame ! 181 EPITAPH. Unboastful Goodness unaffected Worth Lie hid beneath this little mound of Earth. Stranger ! one moment pause upon thy way, If these can claim thy sympathy, or stay Yet no 't is false this lowly stone beneath Lie nought but ashes, dust, decay, and death, That Worth that Goodness which can never die, Dwell with their Great Creator in the Sky ! EPITAPH. If on this unadorned memorial-stone But half her goodness who from us is flown Could be with truth and vivid force expressed Since truth were here the brightest praise and best, 'Twould make thee, pious stranger, fondly grieve O'er such bless' d Virtues doomed this Earth to leave- And yet 't would gladden thee to think how high These must promote her in yon glorious sky. 182 EPITAPH. In ripened age and ripened Virtues too, We saw thee sink into thine honoured grave, While our dimmed eyes were filled with tearful dew Because we might not succour thee nor save. Thou ever good, and kind, and pure and true ! Yet better purer Ah ! and happier now Forgive that we thy grave with cypress strew, While Angels crown with deathless palms thy brow ! 183 SONNET. I. Perchance we all in something strive to excel - How oft in miserable vanities ! Yet still to reach the goal, to snatch the prize Our Souls arc bent and we for ever dwell (Constrained as 'twere by some dim mystic spell,) In artificial atmosphere we rise To build our tottering Babels to the skies Which one breath can demolish can dispel And as we see them shaken, bowed, and crushed, We groan in anguish yet with deeper will, Rush to our fate as we before had rushed, And court the consequence of deeper 111! Oh ! that our throbbing hearts could but be hushed, Or that we thus might strive our duties to fulfil ! 184 SONG. Gentlest Deluder ! Hope ! false as fair, Leave me, ah ! leave me to sorrow and care, Gentlest Destroyer, spread, spread thy light wings, I dread thy soft touch more than Grief's sharpest stings. Oh ! I have known thee have known thee too well, More than these tears, or this wan cheek can tell ; Bright is thy smile but 't is fatal as fair, False, false and fatal spare me oh ! spare ! Fly from me ! fly from me ! swiftly and soon, Fly for I ask not thy dear, dangerous boon ; Well would I deem it couldst thou and I part, Though frozen should thus be this fond fervent heart. Gentlest Deluder ! Hope ! false as fair, Leave me, haste ! leave me, to gloom, or despair ! Gentlest Destroyer ! I bid thee away Many will hail thee One one dreads thy sway ! SONNET. II. Upon thy hills oh Spain, War's beacon gleams, Battle's shrill Clarion startles thy soft air Spears glance and banners float ! the sight is fair, The sound is noble, by thy rolling streams And brings to mind a thousand glorious dreams, But say, doth murder heinous murder there Her blood-stained arm with barbarous triumph bare ? What mean those groans, those yells, those echoing screams ? Alas ! the Brave, the Gallant, and the Bold, Must they escaping the honourable death Upon the well-fought field slow, slow and cold, Have judgment dealt on them ? the laurel wreath Shall wither on their brows, who thus have tolled High Chivalrous Feeling's knell, on Battle's sanguined heath ! 18f> SONNET. III. Ye that now wake th' old echoes that do dwell Deep 'mid Spain's ancient Hills with clang and shout And all War's terrible sounds, what ye are about Have ye bethought ye solemnly and well ? Beware lest Discord's torch, the fierce and fell, Once kindled, scarce should for long years burn out ! And the Land shake beneath War's din and rout, As she were governed by some fatal spell Through the unborn times ! Aye ! lest ye should transmit Unto your Children's Children for an age (While that dire torch is fostered fanned, relit) A stern and most unhappy Heritage Of feuds and of division in the pit Of fierce Contention fall'n deep deep say, are ye sage ? 187 SONNET. IV. Turn, turn to Spain oh England ! turn to her List to her cry of anguish and distress Oh ! haste her griefs, her miseries to redress. Maddened she is with the dire din and stir, The rage and wrath of War there be who spur Her energies 'gainst herself while she doth press On towards black Ruin's brink ! till none may guess What doom remains for her ! no more defer The arm of pitiless Murder there arrest The fierce flagitious slaughterings there forbid The heroic chivalrous Land ! how heaves her breast With sorrow let the unnatural foes be chid, Foul butchering their brave captives ! be suppressed The Infernal strife oh, Heaven ! for one hour of the Cid! 188 SONNET. V. Spain ! Spain ! for one brave Spirit like the Cid, What gallant Armies at his call should wake Towards Fame and Freedom the true path to take ! He who 'mongst all the Heroic deeds he did, His Country's echoing hills and plains amid Abhorred Dissension, for Dissension's sake ; Who, if his Foes even sought, embroiled, to slake Their fiery thirst in kindred blood straight chid The unrighteous War with voice and puissant hand ! * And harmony and peace 'mongst those restored ! Oh ! how would he, or such as he, withstand These hideous conflicts, and with hallowed sword Beat down the infuriate and thrice-desperate brand Turned 'gainst a brother's breast at one rash, factious word ! * Le Cid surtout, le fameux Cid * , faisant triomplier les Chretiens, combattantmeme pour les Mauresquand les Maures sedechiraient entre eux, et portant toujours la Victoire dans le parti qu'il daignait choisir, &c. &c. Gonxalve de Cordoue. Tom. I. p. 71. 189 SONNET. VI. Spaniards ! ere your brave sires arose to thrust Th' old Moors from their bright shores, who o'er them swayed With a magnificent tyranny ere brayed Their trumpet's loud defiance ere the rust Fell from their idle swords, and the icy crust Of Slavery from their souls checked wronged betrayed, Less need was there of championship and aid Than now worse this suspicion this distrust These black home-hatreds this disunion drear While in each breast harsh grudging spites lie hid No mutual cause to aid, consecrate and cheer . Oh ! if the armed Stranger stalked your fields amid The Hostilities a nobler front should wear The Cause the Cause might then unshroud your buried Cid ! 190 SONNET. VII. Spain the romantic, chivalrous, renown'd, What dread and desperate doings now disgrace Thy name ! haste, haste from thence the stain to efface In this foul strife, lo ! how are ties unbound, While friend 'gainst friend battling in wrath is found, While brother holds his brother in embrace Of hate and death, and armed sons in their place Rise up 'gainst their grey sires, such miseries wound The Land, where Civil War's atrocious torch Glares with its baleful horrors ! stained with gore The peasant's threshold-stone is, and wreathed porch, And kinsmen's heart -blood blackens all his floor, And how doth Battle's tri-forked lightning scorch Thy plains which late such smiling beauty wore ! 191 SONNET. I. TO THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. NOVEMBER, 1834. Thine is a glorious and a righteous aim, Great Patriot ! and may certain good ensue. Firm, loyal, brave, and temperate and true Thou favourite Son of Fortune and of Fame Honours crowd thick upon thy soaring name, That name which Victory through her loud trump blew What time on War's red field thy banner flew, Foremost and highest, like a rushing flame ! But now that name a Nation's grateful heart Doth consecrate in reverence, speechless still ! While thy mind's lightnings through the darkness dart Of these vexed times the trouble and the ill, The cloud, the fear, the heaviness shall depart, And thine the praise shall be, strong, strong in swerveless will! 192 SONNET. II. TO THE SAME. 1834. Oh thou ! now called to that momentous post, Where England's helm 's committed to thy hand, Gird thee to do thy Duty by the Land ! Restore the Peace, Fame, Honour she hath lost, Heed not the cry of Faction's evil host, Their vile flagitious threats with scorn withstand, Make her once more the Glorious and the Grand Earth's happiest Sanctuary and proudest Boast ! On her own true, real, lasting Good intent, Brunt thou the hate of her base ambushed foes, Serve her, and save her 'gainst her own consent ! Deliver her from dark and desperate woes, Heal, heal her wounds oh ! bind each yawning rent And bid the opening chasm of fierce Destruction close. 193 SONNET. III. TO THE SAME. 1834. High is thy calling as thy conduct high ! Oh thou ! for aye and evermore renowned Thy forehead all with wreaths of Victory bound Spreads its own light along our shadowed sky Proud name of Patriot ! fires that must not die, A zeal, a strength, a trust too seldom found, A loftiness that cannot touch the ground, A bright and never-slackening Energy These, these must nobly constitute his claim Who would aspire with clear Ambition just To thee, oh ! happy, high and holy name ! And who doth all things base and little thrust Away and toil with so sublime an aim As thou best Bulwark of an Empire's trust ! 194 SONNET. IV. TO THE SAME. 1834. I' the breach thou stand'st in daring high and proud, Mark of all Arrows with their treacherous aim, Thou that hast done such deeds as gild thy name Beyond all increase ! but the unworthy crowd Too oft forget their debts, and clamour loud Their loose condemnings their light, reckless blame Thou ! that hast done deeds that had given to Fame An hundred thousand names ! thou hast not allowed That plea unto thyself to turn away From difficulties which but seem the more To fan the fires that never should decay, In thy high breast of virtuous zeal i' the core Of thy heart's strength ! and still from day to day To urge thee more to oppose, those waves that know no shore ! 195 SONNET. V. TO THE SAME. 1834. Great Leader ! thou who, as the wide world knows, Preserved our England in the troublous Past (What time rang loud the Red Destroyer's blast) From threatening, hating, fierce and fiery foes, And gave her unto Peace and bright repose, While before thee, those foes cowered down aghast, Complete thy task, the glorious and the vast Though heavier, and more complex still it grows ! She tottereth Oh ! prevent her from the fall Strengthen uphold her, fix her firm and fast. To thee we turn on thee, on thee we call : Thou that deliveredst her from scathe and waste Render the noblest service now of all Save her Oh ! save her from Herself at last ! o 2 196 SONNET. VI. TO THE SAME. 1834. How shall we honour thee enough Oh ! thou On whom Fame hath no new Wreaths to bestow Who hath reaped such thick thick laurels, that below No leaf remains for thee to cull whose brow Is blazoned by a deathless palmy bough, And crowned with Victory's crown and yet not so Art thou Content ! but with a Patriot's glow Of bright and fervid zeal, dost thou avow Thyself the foremost in the ranks of those Who labour for their Country's Weal, her true And generous Liegeman ! that doth scorn repose With loftiest discontent, while to toil through Steep Action's paths, can one bright hope disclose Of good, which may to others thence accrue ! 197 SONNET. VII. TO THE SAME. 1834. Now be thine Aim Attainment ! and thy Will Accomplishment ! for those those base Those wretched traitors, who would seek to efface The high memory of thy deeds, which ought to thrill Through every bosom let them utter still Their venomed words Since 'tis in their own face They shall recoil ! And not the slightest trace Cling to thy starry name ; Oh, thou ! whose skill, Whose towering Genius rescued them, and all Of England's Children, from the threatened doom The oppressor's scourge and brand, and badge and thrall- Can these thy Glory or thy Good o'ercome ? No ! let them go ! 'tis pity from the fall Thy hand prevented them who are made for Slavery's gloom ! 198 SONNET. VIII. TO THE SAME. 1834. Now may the Chariot of thy lofty Fate Roll upon Fortune's proudest wheels and now May a far nobler laurel crest thy brow Than Victory's. Hour of thrice auspicious date, That sees thee placed in steerage of the State ! Let Faction veil her pride let Treason bow, Let Discontent her petty drifts avow ; Now let our Land exult and be elate, Thou thou whose mention seems like Victory's cry The Nation's helm hath ta'en though to resign, Still much may be atchieved while these hours fly On their deep-freighted pinions now doth shine Hope's heavenly crescent through our brightening sky- Joy for one hour of such a Mind as thine ! 199 SONNET. IX. TO THE SAMK. 1834. Now gird thee to a loftier Occupation far Than is the Earth-shaking Warrior's ! though he be A thunder-bearing Conqueror even like thee ! For in the heart of this Land's peace is War, More deadly than the ensanguined field's ! thy car, Thy scytheless car, oh ! mount, and through the free Pathways of Action proud and o'er the sea Of dread Events that winged throne steer, though star Nor compass may afford thee aid and low Beneath thy feet the embryo Mischiefs cast And to our gladdened eyes triumphant show What Human Nature may be made when fast It clings through tumult, and distress, and woe, To Virtue's anchor 'midst the billowy waste. 200 SONNET. X. TO THE SAME. 1834. First, Noblest of this world's crowned men of Might ! Who hath spared more blood than Asia's Conqueror spilt Chief Statesman Counsellor Patriot what thou wilt For all of Good and Great thou towerest in sight Of the Earth's thronged millions ! can the envenomed spite Of grovelling Caitiffs, urge them to the guilt Of loading thee, whose stainless Fame is built On sure foundations Champion of the Right ! With their abhorred black calumnies the while Thou labourest but to serve, and bless and aid Thy foul Detractors but can these defile These dim that Fame ? No ! could they well repaid Wert thou by Heavenly Justice' guerdoning smile That will not fail thee and that cannot fade ! 201 SONNET. XL TO THE SAME. 1834. Confusion seize upon their Counsels those That would confusion to thy Counsels bring ! Let Faction turn upon herself her Sting, And their own toils environ thy fierce foes. Shall this be the Beginning or the Close ? Shall Justice, Truth, Faith, Honour, Virtue, spring Once more to life or shall black Discord wring The Land to agony and bar repose ? Perish the Lovers of Contentious strife ! That would destroy^these Realms of prosperous Pride ; Who knowing their own worthlessness their life Devote to making worthless all beside ! They shall not stab with an Assassin's knife Our Country to the heart, while thou'rt her Guard and Guide. 202 SONNET. XII. TO THE SAME. 1834. Should we forget thy deeds of Glory ? No ! We should not, must not, cannot so forget Foul Shame 'twere, ere the living Sun hath set ! But some remembering still what they do owe, The worst of Ingrates basely seek to o'erthrow Their Glorious Benefactor ! Yet, oh ! yet Some, some there are, who nobly chafe and fret Beneath their load of Obligations, though They dream not, hope not to discharge the whole Of that most infinite, and onerous Debt ! Still evermore o'erflow their lips and Soul With deep acknowledgments to him who met For them, War's horrent front who made his Goal Their England's Ark of Peace unchecked by frown or threat ! 203 SONNET. XIII. TO THE SAME. 1834. Wisdom's clear eye, to observe and to apprehend, And loftiest Courage to confront and dare- Judgment to plan and execute with care And Patriotism its holiest fires to lend Are thine, Great Chief ! and thine it is to rend Self from thy thoughts nor even to wish to share The brilliant honours which the field may bear The field of Action! England's truest friend As thou hast been her best safeguard Lo ! thy name Is as a Tower of Strength and of Defence Fortune smiles, linked to thine Auspicious Fame ! Thy Presence Power seems, and Pre-eminence Thy very Life a bright additional claim This Land hath on the Grace of Heaven's j ust Provi- dence ! 204 SONNET. XIV. TO THE SAME. 1834. A heavy charge it is ! a charge whose weight Might crush a lesser mind into the dust A heavy charge it shall be and it must In these momentous hours of gloomiest date. Oh ! thou who nor dejected nor elate, Steeled with sublime resolve, the place of trust Fill'st for a while thou Sage and Brave and Just, Thou Good and how magnanimously Great ! Who dictated by thine own generous heart, No thought of self through these strong hours could'st own Guardian Deliverer as thou wert and art Why on such troublous times hast thou been thrown, Except to shew how proud and bright a part Man, feeble Man may act~ whom Virtue prompts alone ! 205 SONNET. XV. TO THE SAME. 1834. Now, Curtius-like, thou hast leapt calm, fearless, lone Into the Gulph, and that dread Gnlph shall close, But not on thee the troubles and the woes Surely shall find their end ! Thou that hast won The orbed Crowns of burning Victory whose star shone High in the Ascendant above his who chose This Realm or that, and straightway did depose Their rightful Lords and seized^ for his own. Oh ! thou the Greatest of Earth's Warrior Lords, Thou, thou hast leapt into that Gulph of Gloom ! And hark ! the wind seems charged with prophet-words " Ye shall be saved from the dark threatened doom !" Let the Envious, the Ingrate sheathe their tongue's sharp swords May Concord now her sweet Sway re -assume ! 20G SONNET. XVI. TO THE SAME. 1834. Out upon black Ingratitude ! most true, It cannot harm thee cannot rob thy name Of one bright ray of Glory, or of Fame ; No ! those who strive to o'erthrow, and to undo, Those who for thee, in their foul malice brew Their deadly potions, they shall rue the same, In vain remorse and keenly stinging shame, Bitterly and most miserably shall rue ! And thou uninjured shalt in pride of place, Continue glorious as thou wert before ; Nay ! with bright Indignation we shall trace And grave thy Glories on our hearts the more ! Out upon man's Ingratitude ! the base, The accursed sin Oh ! shun it and abhor ! 207 SONNET. These are portentous days ! deep, awful days, And men must gird their Souls to do and dare, And meekly breathe to Heaven the imploring prayer, For aid and for defence. Dread thorny ways Have we to tread and many a wildering maze To thread and pierce but hence ! avaunt Despair, Avaunt ignoble Fear and sordid Care. Now let the good, the wise, shun all delays, Prepared for Sufferance or Resistance ! Why, Clouds dark as th^se have lowered round let them go ! Those good, those just, those brave can they deny Their lofty natures and turn, cowards no ! Free, bold, and true their trust is in the Sky, And if it comes they will endure their woe. 208 SONNET. Hands strong and pure hands mighty or to launch The thunder-bolt, or with a gentler art To bind the Land's now almost broken heart, The Land's long bleeding yawning wounds to staunch, These are required ! Oh ! that the Olive-branch May wave around her brows, that now may start In lovely Resurrection even as dart Stars from night's heavens with silvery sheen to blanch The Shadowy Arch Hope, Concord, Peace, and Faith ! May she, who subjugated Realms of old, Then lead them breathing Peace^ celestial breath ! By her example so the master-mould Of Nature's hand shall she remain ! yet saith Winged Hope, more bright, more bright, shall we her face behold ! 1 A 000 024 309