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Then, where the reign of cultivation ends,
Again the charming wilderness begins:
From steep to steep one solemn wood extends,
Till some new hamlet's rise, the boscage thins.

And these deep groves forever have remained

Touched by no axe,

by no proud owner nursed;

As now they stand they stood when Pharaoh reigned, Lineal descendants of creation's first.

No tales, we know, are chronicled of thee

In ancient scrolls; no deeds of doubtful claim

Have hung a history on every tree,

And given each rock its fable and a fame.

But neither here hath any conqueror trod,
Nor grim invaders from barbarian climes;
No horrors feigned of giant or of god

Pollute thy stillness with recorded crimes.

Here never yet have happy fields laid waste,
The ravished harvest and the blasted fruit,
The cottage ruined and the shrine defaced,
Tracked the foul passage of the feudal brute.

"Yet, O Antiquity!" the stranger sighs;

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Scenes wanting thee soon pall upon the view; The soul's indifference dulls the sated eyes, Where all is fair indeed, — but all is new."

False thought! is age to crumbling walls confined?
To Grecian fragments and Egyptian bones ?
Hath Time no monuments to raise the mind,
More than old fortresses and sculptured stones?

Call not this new which is the only land

That wears unchanged the same primeval face Which, when just dawning from its Maker's hand, Gladdened the first great grandsire of our race.

Nor did Euphrates with an earlier birth

Glide past green Eden towards the unknown south, Than Hudson broke upon the infant earth.

And kissed the ocean with his nameless mouth.

Twin-born with Jordan, Ganges, and the Nile!
Thebes and the pyramids to thee are young;
Oh! had thy waters burst from Britain's isle,
Till now perchance they had not flowed unsung.

THE GROOMSMAN TO HIS
MISTRESS.

EVERY wedding, says the proverb,
Makes another, soon or late;
Never yet was any marriage

Entered in the book of Fate,
But the names were also written
Of the patient pair that wait.

Blessings then upon the morning When my friend with fondest look, By the solemn rites' permission,

To himself his mistress took, And the Destinies recorded

Other two within their book.

While the priest fulfilled his office, Still the ground the lovers eyed, And the parents and the kinsmen

Aimed their glances at the bride;

But nor fair nor dark the other,
Save her Arab eyes and hair;
Neither dark nor fair, I call her,
Yet she was the fairest there.
While her groomsman-shall I own it?
Yes, to thee, and only thee -
Gazed upon this dark-eyed maiden
Who was fairest of the three,
Thus he thought: "How blest the
bridal

Where the bride were such as she!"

Then I mused upon the adage,

Till my wisdom was perplexed, And I wondered, as the churchman Dwelt upon his holy text, Which of all who heard his lesson Should require the service next.

Whose will be the next occasion

For the flowers, the feast, the wine?

But the groomsmen eyed the virgins Thine, perchance, my dearest lady ; Who were waiting at her side.

Three there were that stood beside

her;

One was dark, and one was fair;

Or, who knows?-it may be mine: What if 't were- forgive the fancy What if 't were both mine and thine?

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WOULD WISDOM FOR HERSELF BE WOOED.

WOULD Wisdom for herself be wooed, And wake the foolish from his dream,

She must be glad as well as good,

And must not only be, but seem. Beauty and joy are hers by right; And, knowing this, I wonder less That she's so scorned, when falsely dight

In misery and ugliness.

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Not these; but souls found here and here,

Oases in our waste of sin, When everything is well and fair,

And God remits his discipline; Whose sweet subdual of the world The worldling scarce can recognize; And ridicule, against it hurled,

Drops with a broken sting and dies. They live by law, not like the fool, But like the bard who freely sings

What's that which Heaven to man In strictest bonds of rhyme and rule,

endears,

And that which eyes no sooner see

And finds in them not bonds but wings.

JAMES GATES PERCIVAL.

[From Prometheus, Part II.] APOSTROPHE TO THE SUN. CENTRE of light and energy! thy way Is through the unknown void; thou hast thy throne,

Morning, and evening, and at noon of day,

Far in the blue, untended and alone; Ere the first-wakened airs of earth had blown,

On thou didst march, triumphant in thy light;

Then thou didst send thy glance,

which still hath flown Wide through the never-ending worlds of night, And yet thy full orb burns with flash as keen and bright.

Thy path is high in Heaven;-we cannot gaze

On the intense of light that girds thy car;

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Till through the sinking ocean, moun- Aloft in thy eternal smile they lie

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Dazzling but cold; thy farewell glance looks there,

And when below thy hues of beauty die

Girt round them as a rosy belt, they bear

Into the high dark vault a brow that

still is fair.

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