Misgivings, hard to vanquish or control,

Mix with the day, and cross the hour of rest;
While all the future, for thy purer soul,
With'sober certainties' of love is blest.

That sigh of thine, not meant for human ear,
Tells that these words thy humbleness offend;
Yet bear me up-else faltering in the rear
Of a steep march: support me to the end.

Peace settles where the intellect is meek,
And Love is dutiful in thought and deed;
Through Thee communion with that Love I seek:
The faith Heaven strengthens where he moulds the
Creed.

1824.

XX.

LAMENT OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.

ON THE EVE OF A NEW YEAR.

[THIS arose out of a flash of moonlight that struck the ground when I was approaching the steps that lead from the garden at Rydal Mount to the front of the house. "From her sunk eye a stagnant tear stole forth" is taken, with some loss, from a discarded poem, "The Convict," in which occurred, when he was discovered lying in the cell, these lines:

"But now he upraises the deep-sunken eye,
The motion unsettles a tear;

The silence of sorrow it seems to supply
And asks of me-why I am here."]

SMILE of the Moon!-for so I name
That silent greeting from above;
A gentle flash of light that came
From her whom drooping captives love;

Or art thou of still higher birth ?

Thou that didst part the clouds of earth, My torpor to reprove!

II.

Bright boon of pitying Heaven!-alas,
I may not trust thy placid cheer!
Pondering that Time to-night will pass
The threshold of another

year;

For years to me are sad and dull;
My very moments are too full
Of hopelessness and fear.

III.

And yet, the soul-awakening gleam, That struck perchance the farthest cone

Of Scotland's rocky wilds, did seem

To visit me, and me alone;

Me, unapproached by any friend,
Save those who to my sorrows lend

Tears due unto their own.

IV.

To-night the church-tower bells will ring Through these wide realms a festive peal; To the new year a welcoming;

A tuneful offering for the weal

Of happy millions lulled in sleep;
While I am forced to watch and weep,
By wounds that may not heal.

V.

Born all too high, by wedlock raised
Still higher-to be cast thus low!
Would that mine eyes had never gazed
On aught of more ambitious show

Than the sweet flowerets of the fields -It is my royal state that yields This bitterness of woe.

VI.

Yet how ?-for I, if there be truth
In the world's voice, was passing fair;
And beauty, for confiding youth,
Those shocks of passion can prepare
That kill the bloom before its time;
And blanch, without the owner's crime,
The most resplendent hair.

VII.

Unblest distinction! showered on me
To bind a lingering life in chains:
All that could quit my grasp, or flee,
Is gone;-but not the subtle stains
Fixed in the spirit; for even here
Can I be proud that jealous fear
Of what I was remains.

VIII.

A Woman rules my prison's key;
A sister Queen, against the bent
Of law and holiest sympathy,

Detains me, doubtful of the event;
Great God, who feel'st for my distress,
My thoughts are all that I possess,
O keep them innocent!

IX.

Farewell desire of human aid,
Which abject mortals vainly court!
By friends deceived, by foes betrayed,
Of fears the prey, of hopes the sport;

Nought but the world-redeeming Cross
Is able to supply my loss,

My burthen to support.

X.

Hark! the death-note of the

Sounded by the castle-clock !

year

From her sunk eyes a stagnant tear
Stole forth, unsettled by the shock;
But oft the woods renewed their green,
Ere the tired head of Scotland's Queen
Reposed upon the block!

1817.

XXI.

THE COMPLAINT

OF A FORSAKEN INDIAN WOMAN.

[WRITTEN at Alfoxden, where I read Hearne's Journey with deep interest. It was composed for the volume of Lyrical Ballads.] When a Northern Indian, from sickness, is unable to continue his journey with his companions, he is left behind, covered over with deer-skins, and is supplied with water, food, and fuel, if the situation of the place will afford it. He is informed of the track which his companions intend to pursue, and if he be unable to follow, or overtake them, he perishes alone in the desert; unless he should have the good fortune to fall in with some other tribes of Indians. The females are equally, or still more, exposed to the same fate. See that very interesting work HEARNE'S JOURNEY from HUDSON'S BAY to the NORTHERN OCEAN. In the high northern latitudes, as the same writer informs us, when the northern lights vary their position in the air, they make a rustling and a crackling noise, as alluded to in the following poem.

I.

BEFORE I see another day,
Oh let my body die away!

In sleep I heard the northern gleams;
The stars, they were among my dreams;
In rustling conflict through the skies,
I heard, I saw the flashes drive,
And yet they are upon my eyes,
And yet I am alive;

Before I see another day,

Oh let my body die away!

II.

My fire is dead: it knew no pain;
Yet is it dead, and I remain :
All stiff with ice the ashes lie;
And they are dead, and I will die.
When I was well, I wished to live,
For clothes, for warmth, for food, and fire;
But they to me no joy can give,
No pleasure now, and no desire.
Then here contented will I lie!
Alone, I cannot fear to die.

III.

Alas! ye might have dragged me on

Another day, a single one!

Too soon I yielded to despair;

Why did ye listen to my prayer?

When ye were gone my limbs were stronger;

And oh, how grievously I rue,

That, afterwards, a little longer,
My friends, I did not follow you!
For strong and without pain I lay,
Dear friends, when ye were gone away.