Faith crushed, yet proud of weeds, her gaudy crown; Virtues laid low, and mouldering energies. Thy fortunes, twice exalted, might provoke 10 And enter, with prompt aid from the Most High, On the third stage of thy great destiny. XII. NEAR THE LAKE OF THRASYMENE. WHEN here with Carthage Rome to conflict Or glory, not a vestige seems to endure, pure. So may all trace and sign of deeds aloof XIII. NEAR THE SAME LAKE. FOR action born, existing to be tried, 5 To stir the heart that would too closely screen corse, 10 Unburied, lay hid under heaps of slain: But who is He?-the Conqueror. Would he force His to Rome? Ah, no,-round hill and way Wandering, he haunts, at fancy's strong com mand, This spot-his shadowy death-cup in his hand. XIV. THE CUCKOO AT LAVERNA. MAY 25TH, 1837. LIST 'twas the Cuckoo.-O with what delight Heard I that voice! and catch it now, though faint, Far off and faint, and melting into air, Is wheeling hitherward. Thanks, happy Creature, For this unthought-of greeting! While allured From vale to hill, from hill to vale led on, We have pursued, through various lands, a long And pleasant course; flower after flower has blown, II Embellishing the ground that gave them birth With aspects novel to my sight; but still Most fair, most welcome, when they drank the dew 15 In a sweet fellowship with kinds beloved, Spring 20 Displayed her richest blossoms among files roam, Whate'er assemblages of new and old, 25 For see, Laverna! mark the far-famed Pile, High on the brink of that precipitous rock, 30 Implanted like a Fortress, as in truth It is, a Christian Fortress, garrisoned Dead to the world and scorning earth-born joys. Nay-though the hopes that drew, the fears that drove, St. Francis, far from Man's resort, to abide 36 Among these sterile heights of Apennine, Bound him, nor, since he raised yon House, have ceased 40 To bind his spiritual Progeny, with rules Illustrated, and mutually endeared. Rapt though He were above the power of sense, 50 Familiarly, yet out of the cleansed heart fear, 60 Held with all Kinds in Eden's blissful bowers. Then question not that, 'mid the austere Band, 66 Who breathe the air he breathed, tread where he trod, Some true Partakers of his loving spirit Do still survive, and, with those gentle hearts To catch from Nature's humblest monitors 70 Thus sensitive must be the Monk, though pale With fasts, with vigils worn, depressed by years, Whom in a sunny glade I chanced to see, 75 80 85 90 The notes whose first faint greeting startled me, think, Ah! not like me who walk in the world's ways, On the great Prophet, styled the Voice of One Crying amid the wilderness, and given, Now that their snows must melt, their herbs and flowers Revive, their obstinate winter pass away, 95 That awful name to Thee, thee, simple Cuckoo, |