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Good Kosciusko, thy great name alone
Is a full harvest whence to reap high feeling;
It comes upon us like the glorious pealing Of the wide spheres—an everlasting tone. And now it tells me, that in worlds unknown,
The names of heroes, burst from clouds concealing,
And changed to harmonies, for ever stealing
Thy name with Alfred's, and the great of yore
To where the great God lives for evermore.
This sonnet was published in The Examiner for the 16th of February 1817. The punctuation differs slightly from that of the 1817 volume; and in the eighth line we read around for and round. The date “ Dec. 1816” and the initials “J. K.” appear under the sonnet in The Examiner.
HAPPY is England ! I could be content
To feel no other breezes than are blown
For skies Italian, and an inward groan
To sit upon an Alp as on a throne,
Enough their whitest arms in silence clinging :
Beauties of deeper glance, and hear their singing, And float with them about the summer waters.
SLEEP AND POETRY.
“ As I lay in my bed slepe full unmete
[As I suppose) had more of hertis ese