Love, at the word, before his mother's sight

Puts off his wings, and walks, with proud delight,

45

Like young Iulus; but the gentlest dews
Of slumber Venus sheds, to circumfuse
The true Ascanius steep'd in placid rest;
Then wafts him, cherish'd on her careful
breast,

Through upper air to an Idalian glade, 50
Where he on soft amaracus is laid,
With breathing flowers embraced, and
But Cupid, following cheerily his guide
fragrant shade.
Achates, with the gifts to Carthage hied;
And, as the hall he entered, there, between
The sharers of her golden couch, was seen
Reclin'd in festal pomp the Tyrian queen.
The Trojans too (Eneas at their head),
On couches lie, with purple overspread:
Meantime in canisters is heap'd the bread,
Pellucid water for the hands is borne,
And napkins of smooth texture, finely
shorn.

61

Within are fifty handmaids, who prepare,
As they in order stand, the dainty fare;
And fume the household deities with store
Of odorous incense; while a hundred more
Match'd with an equal number of like age,
But each of manly sex, a docile page,
Marshal the banquet, giving with due grace
To cup or viand its appointed place.
The Tyrians rushing in, an eager band,
Their painted couches seek, obedient to
command.

70

They look with wonder on the gifts-they

Licence to hide at intervals her head

Poems); never reprinted by W.]

For printing [the following piece] some reason should be given, as not a word of it is original: it is simply a fine stanza of Akenside, connected with a still finer from Beattie, by a couplet from Thomson. This practice, in which the author sometimes indulges, of linking together, in his own mind, favourite passages from different authors, seems in itself unobjectionable: but, as the publishing such compilations might lead to confusion in literature, he should deem himself inexcusable in giving this specimen, were it not from a hope that it might open to others a harmless source of private gratification.-W. W.

THRONED in the Sun's descending car
What Power unseen diffuses far
This tenderness of mind?

What Genius smiles on yonder flood?
What God in whispers from the wood
Bids every thought be kind?

O ever pleasing Solitude,
Companion of the wise and good,
Thy shades, thy silence, now be mine,
Thy charms my only theme;
My haunt the hollow cliff whose Pine
Waves o'er the gloomy stream;
Whence the scared Owl on pinions grey
Breaks from the rustling boughs,
And down the lone vale sails away
To more profound repose!

XIV.

5

In a close Box, covert for Justice meet.
St. George of England! keep a watchful

ΙΟ

"SON of my buried Son, while thus thy hand

Is clasping mine, it saddens me to think How Want may press thee down, and with thee sink

Thy Children left unfit, through vain demand

5

not be

Did Justice mould the Statutes of the Land.

MOUNT. (1838.)

name

Call thee, though known but for a few fleet years,

The heart-affianced sister of our love!
RYDAL MOUNT, Feb. 1840.

XIX.

"WHEN SEVERN'S SWEEPING FLOOD HAD OVERTHROWN."

In 1842 a bazaar was held in Cardiff Castle to raise funds for the building of a Church. Words

worth assisted by contributing this Sonnet, which was printed and sold along with verses by James Montgomery and others (cf. Prof. Knight's note, in his edition of the Poems, Vol. VIII.).—ED. WHEN Severn's sweeping flood had overthrown

St. Mary's Church, the preacher then would cry:

"Thus, Christian people, God his might hath shown

That ye to him your love may testify; Haste, and rebuild the pile."-But not

a stone

5

Resumed its place. Age after age went by, And Heaven still lacked its due, though piety In secret did, we trust, her loss bemoan. But now her Spirit hath put forth its claim

9

But truth divine has sanctified their rage, A silver cross enchased with Flowers of

France

Their badge, attests the holy fight they wage.

The shrill defiance of the young crusade Their veteran foes mock as an idle noise; But unto Faith and Loyalty comes aid From Heaven, gigantic force to beardless boys.

XXI. LINES

15

spheres,

25

When Time was young, an inspiration

The land as with a funeral pall? The Rose of England suffers blight, The Flower has drooped, the Isle's delight; Flower and bud together fall;

A Nation's hopes lie crushed in Claremont's desolate Hall.

Time a chequered mantle wears

Earth awakes from wintry sleep : Again the Tree a blossom bears;

25

Cease, Britannia, cease to weep! Hark to the peals on this bright Maymorn!

They tell that your future Queen is born.
A Guardian Angel fluttered
Above the babe, unseen;

31

1 The poet's nephew Christopher (late Bishop of Lincoln) aided in the composition of this "commanded" Ode.-ED.