Gigantic mountains rough with crags; beneath,

Right at the imperial station's western base
Main ocean, breaking audibly, and stretched
Far into silent regions blue and pale ;-
And visibly engirding Mona's Isle
That, as we left the plain, before our sight
Stood like a lofty mount, uplifting slowly
(Above the convex of the watery globe)
Into clear view the cultured fields that streak
Her habitable shores, but now appears
A dwindled object, and submits to lie
At the spectator's feet.-Yon azure ridge,
Is it a perishable cloud? Or there
Do we behold the line of Erin's coast?
Land sometimes by the roving shepherd-

swain

(Like the bright confines of another world) Not doubtfully perceived.-Look homeward

now!

In depth, in height, in circuit, how serene The spectacle, how pure!-Of Nature's works,

In earth, and air, and earth-embracing sea,
A revelation infinite it seems;
Display august of man's inheritance,
Of Britain's calm felicity and power.
1813.

XXXIX.

THE HAUNTED TREE.

TO.

THOSE silver clouds collected round the sun
His mid-day warmth abate not, seeming less
To overshade than multiply his beams
By soft reflection-grateful to the sky,
To rocks, fields, woods. Nor doth our
human sense

Ask, for its pleasure, screen or canopy
More ample than the time-dismantled Oak
Spreads o'er this tuft of heath, which now,
attired

In the whole fulness of its bloom, affords
Couch beautiful as e'er for earthly use
Was fashioned; whether by the hand of Art,
That eastern Sultan, amid flowers en-
wrought

On silken tissue, might diffuse his limbs.
In languor; or, by Nature, for repose
Of panting Wood-nymph, wearied with the
chase.

O Lady! fairer in thy Poet's sight

Than fairest spiritual creature of the groves,

Mere Mortals, bodied forth in vision still, Shall with Mount Ida's triple lustre fill The chaster coverts of a British hill.

Appear!-obey my lyre's command Come, like the Graces, hand in hand! For ye, though not by birth allied, Are Sisters in the bond of love; Nor shall the tongue of envious pride Presume those interweavings to reprove In you, which that fair progeny of Jove, Learned from the tuneful spheres that glide In endless union, earth and sea above." -I sing in vain;-the pines have hushed their waving :

A peerless Youth expectant at my side, Breathless as they, with unabated craving Looks to the earth, and to the vacant cir; And, with a wandering eye that seems to chide,

Asks of the clouds what occupants they

hide:

But why solicit more than sight could bear,

By casting on a moment all we dare?

Invoke we those bright Beings one by one; And what was boldly promised, truly shall

be done.

"Fear not a constraining measure!
-Yielding to this gentle spell,
Lucida! from domes of pleasure,
Or from cottage-sprinkled dell,
Come to regions solitary,

Where the eagle builds her aëry,
Above the hermit's long-forsaken cell!"
-She comes !--behold

That Figure, like a ship with snow-white sail!
Nearer she draws; a breeze uplifts her veil;
Upon her coming wait

As pure a sunshine and as soft a gale
As e'er, on herbage covering earthly mould,
Tempted the bird of Juno to unfold
His richest splendor-when his veering gait
And every motion of his starry train
Seem governed by a strain

Of music, audible to him alone.

"O Lady, worthy of earth's proudest
Throne !

Nor less, by excellence of nature, fit
Beside an unambitious hearth to sit
Domestic queen, where grandeur is unknown;
What living man could fear

The worst of Fortune's malice, wert Thou

throws

A canopy, is smoothed for thy repose!"

Of warblers in full concert strong
Glad moment is it when the throng
Strive, and not vainly strive, to rout
The lagging shower, and force coy Phœbus
out,

Met by the rainbow's form divine,
Issuing from her cloudy shrine ;-
So may the thrillings of the lyre
Prevail to further our desire,

While to these shades a sister Nymph I call,

"Come, if the notes thine ear may pierce,
Come, youngest of the lovely Three,
Submissive to the might of verse
And the dear voice of harmony,
By none more deeply felt than Thee!"
-I sang; and lo! from pastimes virginal
She hastens to the tents

Of nature, and the lonely elements.
Air sparkles round her with a dazzling sheen;
But mark her glowing cheek, her vesture
green!

And, as if wishful to disarm

Or to repay the potent Charm,

She bears the stringèd lute of old romance,
That cheered the trellised arbor's privacy,
And soothed war-wearied knights in raftered
hall.

How vivid, yet how delicate, her glee!
So tripped the Muse, inventress of the dance;
So, truant in waste woods, the blithe Eu
phrosyne !

But the ringlets of that head
Why are they ungarlanded?
Why bedeck her temples less
Than the simplest shepherdess?
Is it not a brow inviting
Choicest flowers that ever breathed,
Which the myrtle would delight in
With Idalian rose enwreathed?
But her humility is well content
With one wild floweret (call it not forlorn)
FLOWER OF THE WINDS, beneath her
bosom worn-

Yet more for love than ornament.

Open, ye thickets! let her fly,

Swift as a Thracian Nymph o'er field and height!

For She, to all but those who love her, shy,
Would gladly vanish from a Stranger's sight;
Though where she is beloved and loves,
Light as the wheeling butterfly she moves;
Her happy spirit as a bird is free,
That rifles blossoms on a tree,
Turning them inside out with arch audacity.

Alas! how little can a moment show
Of an eye where feeling plays
In ten thousand dewy rays;

A face o'er which a thousand shadows go! -She stops-is fastened to that rivulet's side;

And there (while, with sedater mien,

O'er timid waters that have scarcely left
Their birth-place in the rocky cleft
She bends) at leisure may be seen
Features to o ideal grace allied,
Amid their smiles and dimples dignified-
Fit countenance for the soul of primal truth;
The bland composure of eternal youth!

What more changeful than the sea?
But over his great tides

Fidelity presides;

Untoward or unfit;

She, in benign affections pure,

In self-forgetfulness secure,

Sheds round the transient harm or vague mischance

A light unknown to tutored elegance:
Hers is not a cheek shame-stricken,
But her blushes are joy-flushes;
And the fault (if fault it be)
Only ministers to quicken
Laughter-loving gayety,
And kindle sportive wit-

Leaving this Daughter of the mountains free
As if she knew that Oberon king of Fairy
Had crossed her purpose with some quaint
vagary,

And heard his viewless bands

Over their mirthful triumph clapping hands.
"Last of the Three, though eldest born,
Reveal thyself, like pensive Morn
Touched by the skylark's earliest note,
Ere humbler gladness be afloat.

Of Dawn-or Eve, fair vision of the west,
Come with each anxious hope subdued
By woman's gentle fortitude,

But whether in the semblance drest

Each grief, through meekness, settling into

rest.

Or I would hail thee when some high

wrought page

as he.

And, like the lowly reed, her love

Of thoughtfulness and beauty, yield

Its homage offered up in purity.

What would'st thou more? In sunny glade Or under leaves of thickest shade,

Was such a stillness e'er diffused

Insight as keen as frosty star

Is to her charity no bar,

Nor interrupts her frolic graces

When she is, far from these wild places,
Encircled by familiar faces.

O the charm that manners draw,
Nature, from thy genuine law !
If from what her hand would do,
Her voice would utter, aught ensue

Softly she treads, as if her foot were loth
To crush the mountain dew-drops-soon to
melt

On the flower's breast; as if she felt
That flowers themselves, whate'er their hue,
With all their fragrance, all their glistening,
Call to the heart for inward listening-
And though for bridal wreaths and tokens
true

HOPE rules a land forever green:
All powers that serve the bright-eyed Queen
Are confident and gay;
Clouds at her bidding disappear
Points she to aught?-the bliss draws near,

And Fancy smooths the way.

Not such the land of Wishes--there
Dwell fruitless day-dreams, lawless prayer,

And thoughts with things at strife;
Yet how forlorn, should ye depart,
Ye superstitions of the heart,

How poor, were human life!
When magic lore abjured its might,
Ye did not forfeit one dear right,

One tender claim abate;
Witness this symbol of your sway,
Surviving near the public way,

The rustic Wishing-gate!
Inquire not if the fairy race
Shed kindly influence on the place,

Ere northward they retired;

If here a warrior left a spell,
Panting for glory as he fell;
Or here a saint expired.
Enough that all around is fair,
Composed with Nature's finest care,

And in her fondest lovePeace to embosom and contentTo overawe the turbulent,

The selfish to reprove.

Yea! even the Stranger from afar,
Reclining on this moss-grown bar,

Unknowing, and unknown,
The infection of the ground partakes,
Longing for his Beloved-who makes

All happiness her own.

Then why should conscious Spirits fear
The mystic stirrings that are here,
The ancient faith disclaim?
The local Genius ne'er befriends
Desires whose course in folly ends,

Whose just reward is shame.
Smile if thou wilt, but not in scorn,
If some, by ceaseless pains outworn,
Here crave an easier lot;
If some have thirsted to renew
A broken vow, or bind a true,

With firmer, holier knot.

And not in vain, when thoughts are cast
Upon the irrevocable past,

Some Penitent sincere
May for a worthier future sigh,
While trickies from his downcast eye
No unavailing tear.

The Worldling, pining to be freed.
From turmoil, who would turn or speed
The current of his fate,
Might stop before this favored scene,
At Nature's call, nor blush to lean

Upon the Wishing-gate.

The Sage, who feels how blind, how weak
Is man, though loth such help to seek,
Yet, passing, here might pause,
And thirst for insight to allay
Misgiving, while the crimson day

In quietness withdraws;

Or when the church-clock's knell profound
To Time's first step across the bound

Of midnight makes reply;
Time pressing on with starry crest,
To filial sleep upon the breast
Of dread eternity.

1828.

XLII.

THE WISHING-GATE DESTROYED. 'Tis gone-with old belief and dream That round it clung, and tempting scheme