*In the class entitled "Musings," in Mr. Southey's 1 Minor Poems, is one upon his own miniature Picture, taken in childhood, and another upon a landscape painted by Gaspar Poussin. It is possible that every word of the above verses, though similar in subject, might have been written had the author been unacquainted with those beautiful effusions of poetic sentiment. But, for his own satisfaction, he must be allowed thus publicly to acknowledge the pleasure those two Poems of his Friend have given him, and the grateful influence they have upon his mind as often as he reads them, or thinks of them.
In all her brightness, from the dancing crest Far as the last gleam of the filmy train Extended and extending to sustain The motions that it graces-and forbear To drop his pencil! Flowers of every clime Depicted on these pages smile at time; And gorgeous insects copied with nice care Are here, and likenesses of many a shell Tossed ashore by restless waves,
Or in the diver's grasp fetched up from caves Where sea-nymphs might be proud to dwell: But whose rash hand (again I ask) could dare, 'Mid casual tokens and promiscuous shows, To circumscribe this Shape in fixed repose; Could imitate for indolent survey, Perhaps for touch profane,
Plumes that might catch, but cannot keep, a stain; And, with cloud-streaks lightest and loftiest, share The sun's first greeting, his last farewell ray!
Resplendent Wanderer! followed with glad eyes Where'er her course; mysterious Bird! To whom, by wondering Fancy stirred, Eastern Islanders have given
A holy name-the Bird of Heaven! And even a title higher still, The Bird of God! whose blessed will She seems performing as she flies Over the earth and through the skies In never-wearied search of Paradise- Region that crowns her beauty with the name She bears for us-for us how blest, How happy at all seasons, could like aim Uphold our Spirits urged to kindred flight On wings that fear no glance of God's pure sight, No tempest from his breath, their promised rest Seeking with indefatigable quest
Above a world that deems itself most wise When most enslaved by gross realities!
They thus would rise, must low and lower sink Till, by repentance stung, they fear to think; While all lie prostrate, save the tyrant few Bent in quick turns each other to undo, And mix the poison, they themselves must drink. Mistrust thyself, vain Country! cease to cry, "Knowledge will save me from the threatened woe.” For, if than other rash ones more thou know, Yet on presumptuous wing as far would fly Above thy knowledge as they dared to go, Thou wilt provoke a heavier penalty.
UPON THE LATE GENERAL FAST. March, 1832.
RELUCTANT call it was; the rite delayed; And in the Senate some there were who doffed The last of their humanity, and scoffed At providential judgments, undismayed By their own daring. But the People prayed As with one voice; their flinty heart grew soft With penitential sorrow, and aloft Their spirit mounted, crying, "God us aid!" Oh that with aspirations more intense, Chastised by self-abasement more profound, This People, once so happy, so renowned For liberty, would seek from God defence Against far heavier ill, the pestilence Of revolution, impiously unbound!
SAID Secrecy to Cowardice and Fraud, Falsehood and Treachery, in close council met, Deep under ground, in Pluto's cabinet, "The frost of England's pride will soon be thawed; "Hooded the open brow that overawed
"Our schemes; the faith and honour, never yet
By us with hope encountered, be upset ;"For once I burst my bands, and cry, applaud!” Then whispered she, "The Bill is carrying out!” They heard, and, starting up, the Brood of Night Clapped hands, and shook with glee their matted locks;
All Powers and Places that abhor the light Joined in the transport, echoed back their shout, Hurrah for hugging his Ballot-box!
BLEST Statesman He, whose Mind's unselfish will Leaves him at ease among grand thoughts: whose Sees that, apart from magnanimity, Wisdom exists not; nor the humbler skill Of Prudence, disentangling good and ill With patient care. What tho' assaults run high, They daunt not him who holds his ministry, Resolute, at all hazards, to fulfil
Its duties;-prompt to move, but firm to wait,— Knowing, things rashly sought are rarely found; That, for the functions of an ancient State- Strong by her charters, free because imbound, Servant of Providence, not slave of Fate- Perilous is sweeping change, all chance unsound.
IN ALLUSION TO VARIOUS RECENT HISTORIES AND NOTICES OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.
PORTENTOUS change when History can appear As the cool Advocate of foul device; Reckless audacity extol, and jeer
At consciences perplexed with scruples nice! They who bewail not, must abhor, the sneer Born of Conceit, Power's blind Idolater; Or haply sprung from vaunting Cowardice Betrayed by mockery of holy fear.
Hath it not long been said the wrath of Man Works not the righteousness of God? Oh bend, Bend, ye Perverse! to judgments from on High, Laws that lay under Heaven's perpetual ban All principles of action that transcend The sacred limits of humanity.
WHO ponders National events shall find An awful balancing of loss and gain, Joy based on sorrow, good with ill combined, And proud deliverance issuing out of pain And direful throes; as if the All-ruling Mind, With whose perfection it consists to ordain Volcanic burst, earthquake, and hurricane, Dealt in like sort with feeble human kind By laws immutable. But woe for him Who thus deceived shall lend an eager hand To social havoc. Is not Conscience ours, And Truth, whose eye guilt only can make dim; And Will, whose office, by divine command, Is to control and check disordered Powers?
DAYS undefiled by luxury or sloth, Firm self-denial, manners grave and staid, Rights equal, laws with cheerfulness obeyed, Words that require no sanction from an oath, And simple honesty a common growth— This high repute, with bounteous Nature's aid, Won confidence, now ruthlessly betrayed At will, your power the measure of your troth!- All who revere the memory of Penn Grieve for the land on whose wild woods his name Was fondly grafted with a virtuous aim, Renounced, abandoned by degenerate Men For state-dishonour black as ever came To upper air from Mammon's loathsome den.
LONG-FAVOURED England! be not thou misled By monstrous theories of alien growth, Lest alien frenzy seize thee, waxing wroth, Self-smitten till thy garments reek dyed red With thy own blood, which tears in torrents shed Fail to wash out, tears flowing ere thy troth Be plighted, not to ease but sullen sloth, Or wan despair-the ghost of false hope fled Into a shameful grave. Among thy youth, My Country! if such warning be held dear, Then shall a Veteran's heart be thrilled with joy, One who would gather from eternal truth, For time and season, rules that work to cheer- Not scourge, to save the People-not destroy.
MEN of the Western World! in Fate's dark book Whence these opprobrious leaves of dire portent? Think ye your British Ancestors forsook Their native Land, for outrage provident ; From unsubmissive necks the bridle shook To give, in their Descendants, freer vent And wider range to passions turbulent, To mutual tyranny a deadlier look?
Nay, said a voice, soft as the south wind's breath, Dive through the stormy surface of the flood To the great current flowing underneath; Explore the countless springs of silent good; So shall the truth be better understood, And thy grieved Spirit brighten strong in faith.
AT BOLOGNA, IN REMEMBRANCE OF THE LATE INSURRECTIONS, 1837.
Aн why deceive ourselves! by no mere fit Of sudden passion roused shall men attain True freedom where for ages they have lain Bound in a dark abominable pit,
With life's best sinews more and more unknit. Here, there, a banded few who loathe the chain May rise to break it: effort worse than vain For thee, O great Italian nation, split Into those jarring fractions.-Let thy scope Be one fixed mind for all; thy rights approve To thy own conscience gradually renewed; Learn to make Time the father of wise Hope; Then trust thy cause to the arm of Fortitude, The light of Knowledge, and the warmth of Love.
HARD task! exclaim the undisciplined, to lean On Patience coupled with such slow endeavour, That long-lived servitude must last for ever. Perish the grovelling few, who, prest between Wrongs and the terror of redress, would wean Millions from glorious aims. Our chains to sever Let us break forth in tempest now or never!— What, is there then no space for golden mean And gradual progress?-Twilight leads to day, And, even within the burning zones of earth, The hastiest sunrise yields a temperate ray; The softest breeze to fairest flowers gives birth: Think not that Prudence dwells in dark abodes, She scans the future with the eye of gods.
As leaves are to the tree whereon they grow
And wither, every human generation
Is to the Being of a mighty nation,
Locked in our world's embrace through weal and
Thought that should teach the zealot to forego Rash schemes, to abjure all selfish agitation, And seek through noiseless pains and moderation The unblemished good they only can bestow. Alas! with most, who weigh futurity Against time present, passion holds the scales: Hence equal ignorance of both prevails, And nations sink; or, struggling to be free, Are doomed to flounder on, like wounded whales Tossed on the bosom of a stormy sea.
YOUNG ENGLAND-what is then become of Old Of dear Old England? Think they she is dead, Dead to the very name? Presumption fed On empty air! That name will keep its hold
In the true filial bosom's inmost fold
For ever. The Spirit of Alfred, at the head Of all who for her rights watch'd, toil'd and bled, Knows that this prophecy is not too bold. What-how! shall she submit in will and deed To Beardless Boys-an imitative race, The servum pecus of a Gallic breed?
Dear Mother! if thou must thy steps retrace, Go where at least meek Innocency dwells; Let Babes and Sucklings be thy oracles.
FEEL for the wrongs to universal ken Daily exposed, woe that unshrouded lies; And seek the Sufferer in his darkest den, Whether conducted to the spot by sighs And moanings, or he dwells (as if the wren Taught him concealment) hidden from all eyes In silence and the awful modesties
Of sorrow ;-feel for all, as brother Men! Rest not in hope want's icy chain to thaw By casual boons and formal charities; Learn to be just, just through impartial law; Far as ye may, erect and equalise ; And, what ye cannot reach by statute, draw Each from his fountain of self-sacrifice!
SUGGESTED BY THE VIEW OF LANCASTER CASTLE
(ON THE ROAD FROM THE SOUTH).
THIS Spot at once unfolding sight so fair Of sea and land, with yon grey towers that still Rise up as if to lord it over air-
Might soothe in human breasts the sense of ill, Or charm it out of memory; yea, might fill The heart with joy and gratitude to God For all his bounties upon man bestowed: Why bears it then the name of "Weeping Hill"? Thousands, as toward yon old Lancastrian Towers, A prison's crown, along this way they past For lingering durance or quick death with shame, From this bare eminence thereon have cast Their first look-blinded as tears fell in showers Shed on their chains; and hence that doleful name.
TENDERLY do we feel by Nature's law For worst offenders: though the heart will heave With indignation, deeply moved we grieve, In after thought, for Him who stood in awe Neither of God nor man, and only saw, Lost wretch, a horrible device enthroned On proud temptations, till the victim groaned Under the steel his hand had dared to draw. But O, restrain compassion, if its course, As oft befals, prevent or turn aside Judgments and aims and acts whose higher source Is sympathy with the unforewarned, who died Blameless-with them that shuddered o'er his grave, And all who from the law firm safety crave.
THE ROman Consul doomed his sons to die Who had betrayed their country. The stern word Afforded (may it through all time afford) A theme for praise and admiration high. Upon the surface of humanity
He rested not; its depths his mind explored;
He felt; but his parental bosom's lord Was Duty,-Duty calmed his agony. And some, we know, when they by wilful act A single human life have wrongly taken, Pass sentence on themselves, confess the fact, And, to atone for it, with soul unshaken Kneel at the feet of Justice, and, for faith Broken with all mankind, solicit death.
Is Death, when evil against good has fought With such fell mastery that a man may dare By deeds the blackest purpose to lay bare? Is Death, for one to that condition brought, For him, or any one, the thing that ought To be most dreaded? Lawgivers, beware, Lest, capital pains remitting till ye spare The murderer, ye, by sanction to that thought Seemingly given, debase the general mind; Tempt the vague will tried standards to disown, Nor only palpable restraints unbind,
But upon Honour's head disturb the crown, Whose absolute rule permits not to withstand In the weak love of life his least command.
Nor to the object specially designed, Howe'er momentous in itself it be, Good to promote or curb depravity, Is the wise Legislator's view confined. His Spirit, when most severe, is oft most kind; As all Authority in earth depends
On Love and Fear, their several powers he blends,
Copying with awe the one Paternal mind. Uncaught by processes in show humane, He feels how far the act would derogate From even the humblest functions of the State;
If she, self-shorn of Majesty, ordain That never more shall hang upon her breath
The last alternative of Life or Death.
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