Blithe as the lark on sun-gilt wings Her modest gratitude. Not vain is sadly-uttered praise; Lamented youth! to thy cold clay 60 65 70 prey And, when thy Mother weeps for Thee, XXXIV. SKY-PROSPECT-FROM THE PLAIN OF FRANCE. Lo! in the burning west, the craggy nape Of a proud Ararat! and, thereupon, 75 1 The persuasion here expressed was not groundless. The first human consolation that the afflicted Mother felt was derived from this tribute to her son's memory, a fact which the author learned, at his own residence, from her Daughter, who visited Europe some years afterwards.-Goldau is one of the villages desolated by the fall of part of the Mountain Rossberg. 5 The Ark, her melancholy voyage done! Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows XXXV. ON BEING STRANDED NEAR THE HARBOUR OF WHY cast ye back upon the Gallic shore, Of England-who in hope her coast had won, XXXVI. AFTER LANDING-THE VALLEY OF DOVER. WHERE be the noisy followers of the game 1 See Note. ΤΟ Which faction breeds? the turmoil where, that passed Through Europe, echoing from the newsman's blast, And filled our hearts with grief for England's shame? 6 Peace greets us ;-rambling on without an aim That lifts the spirit to a calmer height, XXXVII. AT DOVER. FROM the Pier's head, musing, and with increase Of wonder, I have watched this sea-side Town, Under the white cliff's battlemented crown, Hushed to a depth of more than Sabbath peace: The streets and quays are thronged, but why disown 5 Their natural utterance? whence this strange release From social noise silence elsewhere unknown? A Spirit whispered, "Let all wonder cease; Ocean's o'erpowering murmurs have set free 9 Thy sense from pressure of life's common din; As the dread Voice that speaks from out the sea Of God's eternal Word, the Voice of Time Doth deaden, shocks of tumult, shrieks of crime, The shouts of folly, and the groans of sin." 1837 (?). XXXVIII. DESULTORY STANZAS, UPON RECEIVING THE PRECEDING SHEETS FROM Is then the final page before me spread, 5 IO All that I saw returns upon my view, Of midnight,-cities, plains, forests, and mighty streams. 20 Where Mortal never breathed I dare to sit To which sad course, these wrinkled Sons of Time Labour their proper greatness to subdue; 25 Where life and rapture flow in plenitude sublime. Fancy hath flung for me an airy bridge Across thy long deep Valley, furious Rhone! 35 A sea of foliage, tossing with the gale, Blithe Autumn's purple crown, and Winter's icy mail! 1 Far as ST. MAURICE, from yon eastern FORKS,1 Down the main avenue my sight can range: And all its branchy vales, and all that lurks Within them, church, and town, and hut, and grange, 40 For my enjoyment meet in vision strange; Is not the chamois suited to his place? 45 -Let Empires fall; but ne'er shall Ye disgrace Your noble birthright, ye that оссиру Your council-seats beneath the open sky, 50 On Sarnen's Mount,' there judge of fit and right, In simple democratic majesty; Soft breezes fanning your rough brows-the might And purity of nature spread before your sight! 1 At the head of the Vallais. See Note. 2 See Note. |