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More brave for this, that he hath much to love :-
'Tis, finally, the man, who, lifted high,
Conspicuous object in a Nation's eye,
Or left unthought-of in obscurity,-
Who, with a toward or untoward lot,
Prosperous or adverse, to his wish or not,
Plays, in the many games of life, that one
Where what he most doth value must be won :
Whom neither shape of danger can dismay,
Nor thought of tender happiness betray;
Who, not content that former worth stand fast,
Looks forward, persevering to the last,
From well to better, daily self-surpast :

Who, whether praise of him must walk the earth
For ever, and to noble deeds give birth,
Or he must go to dust without his fame,
And leave a dead unprofitable name,

Finds comfort in himself and in his cause;
And, while the mortal mist is gathering, draws
His breath in confidence of Heaven's applause :
This is the happy Warrior; this is he
Whom every man in arms should wish to be.

LINES ON THE EXPECTED INVASION.

1803.

COME ye-who, if (which Heaven avert !) the Land
Were with herself at strife, would take your stand,
Like gallant Falkland, by the Monarch's side,
And, like Montrose, make Loyalty your pride-
Come ye-who, not less zealous, might display
Banners at enmity with regal sway,

And, like the Pyms and Miltons of that day,
Think that a State would live in sounder health
If Kingship bowed its head to Commonwealth-
Ye too-whom no discreditable fear

Would keep, perhaps with many a fruitless tear,
Uncertain what to choose and how to steer-
And ye-who might mistake for sober sense
And wise reserve the plea of indolence—
Come ye-whate'er your creed-O waken all,
Whate'er your temper, at your Country's call;
Resolving (this a free-born Nation can)
To have one soul, and perish to a man,
Or save this honoured Land from every lord
But British reason and the British sword.

THE PILLAR OF TRAJAN.

[I had observed in the newspaper that the Pillar of Trajan was given as a subject for a prize-poem in English verse. I had a wish that my son, who was then an undergraduate at Oxford, should try his fortune, and I told him so; but he, not having been accustomed to write verse, wisely declined to enter on the task; whereupon I showed him these lines as a proof of what might be, without difficulty, done on that subject.]

WHERE towers are crushed, and unforbidden weeds
O'er mutilated arches shed their seeds;

And temples, doomed to milder change, unfold
A new magnificence that vies with old;

Firm in its pristine majesty hath stood

A votive Column, spared by fire and flood :-
And, though the passions of man's fretful race
Have never ceased to eddy round its base,
Not injured more by touch of meddling hands
Than a lone obelisk, 'mid Nubian sands,
Or aught in Syrian deserts left to save

From death the memory of the good and brave.
Historic figures round the shaft embost
Ascend, with lineaments in air not lost :

Still as he turns, the charmed spectator sees
Group winding after group with dream-like ease,
Triumphs in sunbright gratitude displayed,
Or softly stealing into modest shade.

-So, pleased with purple clusters to entwine
Some lofty elm-tree, mounts the daring vine;
The woodbine so, with spiral grace, and breathes
Wide-spreading odours from her flowery wreaths.

Borne by the Muse from rills in shepherds' ears Murmuring but one smooth story for all years,

I gladly commune with the mind and heart
Of him who thus survives by classic art,
His actions witness, venerate his mien,
And study Trajan as by Pliny seen;

Behold how fought the Chief whose conquering sword
Stretched far as earth might own a single lord;
In the delight of moral prudence schooled,
How feelingly at home the Sovereign ruled
Best of the good-in pagan faith allied
To more than Man, by virtue deified.

;

Memorial Pillar! 'mid the wrecks of Time Preserve thy charge with confidence sublimeThe exultations, pomps, and cares of Rome, Whence half the breathing world received its doom; Things that recoil from language; that, if shown By apter pencil, from the light had flown. A Pontiff, Trajan here the Gods implores, There greets an embassy from Indian shores : Lo! he harangues his cohorts-there the storm Of battle meets him in authentic form! Unharnessed, naked, troops of Moorish horse Sweep to the charge; more high, the Dacian force, To hoof and finger mailed;-yet, high or low, None bleed, and none lie prostrate but the foe; In every Roman, through all turns of fate,

Is Roman dignity inviolate;

Spirit in him pre-eminent, who guides,
Supports, adorns, and over all presides;

Distinguished only by inherent state

From honoured instruments that round him wait; Rise as he may, his grandeur scorns the test

Of outward symbol, nor will deign to rest

On aught by which another is deprest.

-Alas! that one thus disciplined could toil
To enslave whole nations on their native soil;
So emulous of Macedonian fame,

That, when his age was measured with his aim,
He drooped, 'mid else unclouded victories,
And turned his eagles back with deep-drawn sighs;
O weakness of the great! O folly of the wise!

Where now the haughty Empire that was spread
With such fond hope? her very speech is dead;
Yet glorious Art the power of Time defies,
And Trajan still, through various enterprise,
Mounts, in this fine illusion, toward the skies:
Still are we present with the imperial Chief,
Nor cease to gaze upon the bold relief
Till Rome, to silent marble unconfined,
Becomes with all her years a vision of the mind.

SEPTEMBER 1819.

DEPARTING Summer hath assumed

An aspect tenderly illumed,

The gentlest look of Spring;

That calls from yonder leafy shade

Unfaded, yet prepared to fade,

A timely carolling.

No faint and hesitating trill-
Such tribute as to Winter chill

The lonely Redbreast pays!
Clear, loud, and lively is the din,
From social warblers gathering in
Their harvest of sweet lays.

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