ON THE MONUMENT OF A NEWFOUNDLAND-DOG.
In the orbs of the blessed to shine. On earth thou wert all but divine, As thy soul shall immortally be;
WHEN some proud son of man returns to And our sorrow may cease to repine,
Unknown to glory, but upheld by birth, The sculptor's art exhausts the pomp of woe, And storied urns record who rests below; When all is done, upon the tomb is seen, Not what he was, but what he should have been:
But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend, The first to welcome, foremost to defend, Whose honest heart is still his master's own, Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone,
Unhonour'd falls, unnoticed all his worth, Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth: While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven,
And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.
Oh man! thou feeble tenant of an hour,
Debased by slavery, or corrupt by power,
Who knows thee well must quit thee with
disgust,
Degraded mass of animated dust!
Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat,
Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy words deceit!
By nature vile, ennobled but by name,
Each kindred brute might bid thee blush
for shame.
Ye! who perchance behold this simple urn,
Pass on- -it honours none you wish to mourn:
To mark a friend's remains these stones
arise,
I never knew but one, and here he lies. Newstead Abbey, Oct. 30, 1808.
FAREWELL! if ever fondest prayer
For others' weal avail'd on high,
Mine will not all be lost in air,
But waft thy name beyond the sky.
"Twere vain to speak, to weep, to sigh:
Oh! more than tears of blood can tell,
When wrung from guilt's expiring eye,
Are in that word-Farewell!- Farewell!
These lips are mute, these eyes are dry; But in my breast, and in my brain, Awake the pangs that pass not by,
The thought that ne'er shall sleep again. My soul nor deigns nor dares complain, Though grief and passion there rebel; I only know we loved in vain—
I only feel-Farewell!-Farewell!
BRIGHT be the place of thy soul!
No lovelier spirit than thine E'er burst from its mortal control,
When we know that thy God is with thee.
Light be the turf of thy tomb!
May its verdure like emeralds be: There should not be the shadow of gloom, In aught that reminds us of thee. Young flowers and an evergreen tree May spring from the spot of thy rest: But nor cypress nor yew let us see; For why should we mourn for the blest?
FARE THEE WELL.
Alas! they had been friends in youth;
But whispering tongues can poison truth;
And constancy lives in realms above:
And Life is thorny; and youth is vain:
And to be wroth with one we love,
Doth work like madness in the brain:
But never either found another
To free the hollow heart from paining-
They stood aloof, the scars remaining,
Like cliffs, which had been rent asunder;
A dreary sea now flows between,
But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder
Shall wholly do away, I ween,
The marks of that which once hath been. COLERIDGE.
FARE thee well! and if for ever,
Still for ever, fare thee well:
Even though unforgiving, never
'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel.
Would that breast were bared before thee
Where thy head so oft hath lain,
While that placid sleep came o'er thee
Which thou ne'er canst know again:
Would that breast, by thee glanced over,
Then thou wouldst at last discover
Every inmost thought could show!
'Twas not well to spurn it so.
Though the world for this commend thee—
Though it smile upon the blow,
Even its praises must offend thee,
Founded on another's woe-
Though my many faults defaced me,
Could no other arm be found
Than the one which once embraced me,
To inflict a cureless wound?
Yet, oh yet, thyself deceive not;
Love may sink by slow decay,
But by sudden wrench, believe not
Hearts can thus be torn away:
Still thine own its life retaineth-
Still must mine, though bleeding, beat;
And the undying thought which paineth
Is that we no more may meet.
| These are words of deeper sorrow
Than the wail above the dead;
Both shall live, but every morrow
Wake us from a widow'd bed.
And when thou wouldst solace gather,
When our child's first accents flow, Wilt thou teach her to say "Father!"
Though his care she must forego? When her little hands shall press thee, When her lip to thine is prest, Think of him whose prayer shall bless thee, Think of him thy love had bless'd! Should her lineaments resemble Those thou never more mayst see, Then thy heart will softly tremble With a pulse yet true to me. All my faults perchance thou knowest, All my madness none can know ; All my hopes, where'er thou goest,
Wither yet with thee they go. Every feeling hath been shaken;
Pride, which not a world could bow,
Bows to thee-by thee forsaken,
Even my soul forsakes me now:
But 'tis done-all words are idle-
Words from me are vainer still;
But the thoughts we cannot bridle
Force their way without the will. -
Fare thee well!-thus disunited,
Torn from every nearer tie,
Sear'd in heart, and lone, and blighted-
More than this I scarce can die.
WHEN all around grew drear and dark,
And reason half withheld her ray-
And hope but shed a dying spark
Which more misled my lonely way;
In that deep midnight of the mind,
And that internal strife of heart,
When dreading to be deem'd too kind,
The weak despair-the cold depart;
When fortune changed-and love fled far,
And hatred's shafts flew thick and fast, Thou wert the solitary star
Which rose and set not to the last.
Oh! blest be thine unbroken light!
That watch'd me as a seraph's eye,
And stood between me and the night,
For ever shining sweetly nigh.
And when the cloud upon us came,
Which strove to blacken o'er thy
Then purer spread its gentle flame,
And dash'd the darkness all away.
Still may thy spirit dwell on mine,
And these, when all was lost beside,
Were found, and still are fixed, in thee-
And bearing still a breast so tried,
Earth is no desert-even to me.
[FROM THE FRENCH.]
"All wept, but particularly Savary, and a Pali officer who had been exalted from the rau by Buonaparte. He clung to his master's knra wrote a letter to Lord Keith, entreating p mission to accompany him, even in the mos menial capacity, which could not be admitted
Must thou go, my glorious Chief,
Sever'd from thy faithful few?
Who can tell thy warrior's grief,
Maddening o'er that long adieu?
Woman's love, and friendship's zeal-
Dear as both have been to me-
What are they to all I feel,
With a soldier's faith, for thee?
Idol of the soldier's soul!
Many could a world control;
First in fight, but mightiest now:
Thee alone no doom can bow.
By thy side for years I dared
Death, and envied those who fell,
When their dying shout was heard
Blessing him they served so well.
Would that I were cold with those,
Since this hour I live to see;
When the doubts of coward foes
Scarce dare trust a man with thee,
ray-Dreading each should set thee free.
And teach it what to brave or brookThere's more in one soft word of thine, Than in the world's defied rebuke.
Thon stood'st, as stands a lovely tree,
That still unbroke, though gently bent,
Still waves with fond fidelity
Its boughs above a monument.
Oh! although in dungeons pent,
All their chains were light to me,
Gazing on thy soul unbent.
Would the sycophants of him
Now so deaf to duty's prayer,
Were his borrow'd glories dim,
In his native darkness share?
Were that world this hour his own,
All thou calmly dost resign,
Could he purchase with that throne
Hearts like those which still are thine?
The winds might rend_the skies might pour, My chief, my king, my friend, adieu!
But there thou wert-and still wouldst be Devoted in the stormiest hour
To shed thy weeping leaves o'er me.
But thou and thine shall know no blight,
Whatever fate on me may fall;
For heaven in sunshine will requite
The kind- and thee the most of all.
Then let the ties of baffled love
Be broken-thine will never break;
Thy heart can feel-but will not move;
Thy soul, though soft, will never shake.
Never did I droop before;
Never to my sovereign sue,
As his foes I now implore.
All I ask is to divide
Every peril he must brave,
Sharing by the hero's side
His fall, his exile, and his
We do not curse thee, Waterloo! Though Freedom's blood thy plain bedew;
There 'twas shed, but is not sunk-
Rising from each gory trunk,
Like the water-spout from ocean,
With a strong and growing motion-
It soars, and mingles in the air,
With that of lost LABEDØYERE —
With that of him whose honour'd
Contains the "bravest of the brave."
A crimson cloud it spreads and glows,
But shall return to whence it 'rose;
When 'tis full 'twill burst asunder-
Never yet was heard such thunder
Victory beaming from her breast?)
While the broken line enlarging
Fell, or fled along the plain;
There be sure was MURAT charging!
There he ne'er shall charge again!
O'er glories gone the invaders march, Weeps Triumph o'er each levell'd archBut let Freedom rejoice,
With her heart in her voice;
But, her hand on her sword,
Doubly shall she be adored;
As then shall shake the world with wonder-France hath twice too well been taught
Never yet was seen such lightning,
As o'er heaven shall then be bright'ning!
Like the Wormwood-Star foretold
By the sainted Seer of old,
Showering down a fiery flood,
Turning rivers into blood.
The Chief has fallen, but not by you,
Vanquishers of Waterloo!
When the soldier-citizen
Sway'd not o'er his fellow-men—
Save in deeds that led them on
Where Glory smiled on Freedom's son-
Who, of all the despots banded,
With that youthful chief competed?
Who could boast o'er France defeated,
Till lone Tyranny commanded?
Till, goaded by Ambition's sting,
The Hero sunk into the King?
Then he fell;-So perish all,
Who would men by man enthral!
And thou too of the snow-white plume!
Whose realm refused thee even a tomb;
Better hadst thou still been leading
France o'er hosts of hirelings bleeding,
Than sold thyself to death and shame
For a meanly royal name,
Such as he of Naples wears,
Who thy blood-bought title bears.
Little didst thou deem, when dashing
On thy war-horse through the ranks,
Like a stream which burst its banks,
While helmets cleft, and sabres clashing,
Shone and shiver'd fast around thee-
Of the fate at last which found thee:
Was that haughty plume laid low
By a slave's dishonest blow?
Once-as the Moon sways o'er the tide,
It rolled in air, the warrior's guide;
Through the smoke-created night
Of the black and sulphurous fight,
The soldier raised his seeking eye
To catch that crest's ascendancy,—
And as it onward rolling rose,
So moved his heart upon our foes.
There, where death's brief pang was quickest,
And the battle's wreck lay thickest,
Strew'd beneath the advancing banner
Of the eagle's burning crest-
(There, with thunder-clouds to fan her,
Who could then her wing arrest-
The "moral lesson" dearly bought—
Her safety sits not on a throne,
With CAPET or NAPOLEON!
But in equal rights and laws,
Hearts and hands in one great cause-
Freedom, such as God hath given
Unto all beneath his heaven
With their breath, and from their birth, Though Guilt would sweep it from the earth;
With a fierce and lavish hand
Scattering nations' wealth like sand:
Pouring nations' blood like water,
In imperial seas of slaughter!
But the heart and the mind, And the voice of mankind, Shall arise in communionAnd who shall resist that proud union? The time is past when swords subduedMan may die- the soul's renew'd: Even in this low world of care Freedom ne'er shall want an heir; Millions breathe but to inherit Her for ever bounding spiritWhen once more her hosts assemble, Tyrants shall believe and trembleSmile they at this idle threat? Crimson tears will follow yet.
ON THE STAR OF THE LEGION OF HONOUR.
STAR of the brave!-whose beam hath shed
Such glory o'er the quick and dead-
Thou radiant and adored deceit!
Which millions rush'd in arms to greet,-
Wild meteor of immortal birth!
Why rise in Heaven to set on Earth?
Souls of slain heroes form'd thy rays;
Eternity flash'd through thy blaze;
The music of thy martial sphere
Was fame on high and honour here;
And thy light broke on human eyes
Like a Volcano of the skies.
Like lava roll❜d thy stream of blood,
And swept down empires with its flood;
Earth rock'd beneath thee to her base,
As thou didst lighten through all space;
And the shorn Sun grew dim in air,
And set while thou wert dwelling there.
Before thee rose, and with thee grew,
A rainbow of the loveliest hue
Of three bright colours, each divine,
And fit for that celestial sign;
For Freedom's hand had blended them
Like tints in an immortal gem.
One tint was of the sunbeam's dyes;
One, the blue depth of Seraph's eyes;
One, the pure Spirit's veil of white
Had robed in radiance of its light:
The three so mingled did beseem
The texture of a heavenly dream.
Star of the brave! thy ray is pale,
And darkness must again prevail !
But, oh thou Rainbow of the free!
Our tears and blood must flow for thee.
When thy bright promise fades away,
Our life is but a load of clay.
And Freedom hallows with her tread
The silent cities of the dead;
For beautiful in death are they
Who proudly fall in her array;
And soon, oh Goddess! may we be
For evermore with them or thee!
ABSENT or present, still to thee,
My friend, what magic spells belong!
As all can tell, who share, like me,
In turn, thy converse and thy song.
But when the dreaded hour shall come,
By Friendship ever deem'd too nigh,
And "MEMORY" o'er her Druid's tomb
Shall weep that aught of thee can die,
How fondly will She then repay
Thy homage offer'd at her shrine,
FAREWELL to the Land where the gloom of And blend, while Ages roll away,
Arose and o'ershadow'd the earth with her
Her name immortally with thine!
I have warr'd with a world which van-ROUSSEAU-Voltaire our Gibbon and de
When the meteor of Conquest allured me Leman! these
I have coped with the nations which dread Thy shore of
me thus lonely,
The last single Captive to millions in war.
Farewell to thee, France!—when thy dia-
dem crown'd me
I made thee the gem and the wonder of earth,
But thy weakness decrees I should leave as I found thee, Decay'd in thy glory and sunk in thy worth.
To them thy banks were lovely as to all;
But they have made them lovelier, for
the lore
Of mighty minds doth hallow in the core
Of human hearts the ruin of a wall
Where dwelt the wise and wondrous; but
by thee
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