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Whilst light and darkness bound it,
Be their tomb who planned

To make it ours and thine !
Or, with thine harmonizing ardours fill
And raise thy sons, as o'er the prone horizon
Thy lamp feeds every twilight wave with fire —
Be man's high hope and unextinct desire,
The instrument to work thy will divine !
Then clouds from sunbeams, antelopes from leopards,

And frowns and fears from Thee,

Would not more swiftly flee
Than Celtic wolves from the Ausonian shepherds. —
Whatever, Spirit, from thy starry shrine

Thou yieldest or withholdest, Oh let be
This city of thy worship ever free!



The fiery mountains answer each other;

Their thunderings are echoed from zone to zone ; The tempestuous oceans awake one another, And the ice-rocks are shaken round Winter's throne, When the clarion of the Typhoon is blown.


From a single cloud the lightning flashes,

Whilst a thousand isles are illumined around, Earthquake is trampling one city to ashes, An hundred are shuddering and tottering; the sound

Is bellowing underground.


But keener thy gaze than the lightning's glare,

And swifter thy step than the earthquake's tramp; Thou deafenest the rage of the ocean; thy stare Makes blind the volcanoes; the sun's bright lamp

To thine is a fen-fire damp.


From billow and mountain and exhalation

The sunlight is darted through vapour and blast ;
From spirit to spirit, from nation to nation,

From city to hamlet thy dawning is cast,
And tyrants and slaves are like shadows of night

In the van of the morning light.



TELL me, thou star, whose wings of light
Speed thee in thy fiery flight,
In what cavern of the night

Will thy pinions close now?


Tell me, moon, thou pale and grey
Pilgrim of heaven's homeless way,
In what depth of night or day

Seekest thou repose now?


Weary wind, who wanderest
Like the world's rejected guest,
Hast thou still some secret nest

On the tree or billow ?


A PORTAL as of shadowy adamant

Stands yawning on the highway of the life Which we all tread, a cavern huge and gaunt;

Around it rages an unceasing strife Of shadows, like the restless clouds that haunt The gap of some cleft mountain, lifted high Into the whirlwinds of the upper sky.

And many pass it by with careless tread,

Not knowing that a shadowy ...
Tracks every traveller even to where the dead

Wait peacefully for their companion new; But others, by more curious humour led,

Pause to examine, — these are very few, And they learn little there, except to know That shadows follow them where'er they go.



LIKE the ghost of a dear friend dead

Is time long past.
A tone which is now forever fled,
A hope which is now forever past,
A love so sweet it could not last,

Was time long past.


There were sweet dreams in the night

Of time long past : And, was it sadness or delight, Each day a shadow onward cast Which made us wish it yet might last

That time long past.


There is regret, almost remorse,

For time long past.

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