XL.

CONTINUED.

“YET life," you say, “is life; we have seen and see,

And with a living pleasure we describe ;
And fits of sprightly malice do but bribe
The languid mind into activity.

Sound sense, and love itself, and mirth and glee
Are fostered by the comment and the gibe.”
Even be it so: yet still among your tribe,
Our daily world's true Worldlings, rank not me!
Children are blest, and powerful ; their world lies
More justly balanced; partly at their feet,
And part far from them:-sweetest melodies
Are those that are by distance made more sweet;'
Whose mind is but the mind of his own eyes,
He is a Slave; the meanest we can meet !

XLI.

CONTINUED.

WINGS have we,➡and as far as we can go
We may find pleasure: wilderness and wood,

Blank ocean and mere sky, support that mood
Which with the lofty sanctifies the low.

Dreams, books, are cach a world; and books, we know,
Are a substantial world, both pure and good :

Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood,
Our pastime and our happiness will grow.

There find I personal themes, a plenteous store,
Matter wherein right voluble I amı,

To which I listen with a ready car;
Two shall be named, pre-eminently dear,-
The gentle Lady married to the Moor;

And heavenly Una with her milk-white Lamb.

XLII.

CONCLUDED.

NOR Can I not believe but that hereby
Great gains are mine; for thus I live remote
From evil-speaking; rancour, never sought,
Comes to me not; malignant truth, or lie.
Hence have I genial scasons, hence have 1
Smooth passions, smooth discourse, and joyous thought:
And thus from day to day my little boat
Rocks in its harbour, lodging peaceably.
Blessings be with them-and eternal praise,
Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler care»—
The Poets, who on earth have made us heirs
Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays!
Oh, might my name be numbered among theirs,
Then gladly would I end my mortal days.

XLIII.

TO H. R. HAYDON.

HIGH is our calling, Friend !—Creative Art
(Whether the instrument of words she use,
Or pencil pregnant with ethereal hues,)
Demands the service of a mind and heart,
Though sensitive, yet, in their weakest part,
Heroically fashioned— -to infuse

Faith in the whispers of the lonely Muse,
While the whole world seems adverse to deserț.
And, oh! when Nature sinks, as oft she may,
Through long-lived pressure of obscure distress,
Still to be strenuous for the bright reward,
And in the soul admit of no decay,

Brook no continuance of weak-mindedness

Great is the glory, for the strife is hard!

XLIV.

FROM the dark chambers of dejection freckl,
Spurning the unprofitable yoke of care,

Rise, GILLIES, rise: the gales of youth shall bear
Thy genius forward like a winged steed.
Though bold Bellerophon (so Jove decreed

In wrath) fell headlong from the fields of air,
Yet a rich guerdon waits on minds that dare,
If aught be in them of immortal seed,

And reason govern

that audacious flight

Which heaven-ward they direct.-Then droop not thou. Erroneously renewing a sad vow

In the low dell 'mid Roslin's faded

grove:

A cheerful life is what the Muses love,
A soaring spirit is their prime delight.