When long-familiar joys are all resigned,

Why does their sad remembrance haunt the mind?1
Lo! where through flat Batavia's willowy groves,

Or by the lazy Seine, the exile roves;

O'er the curled waters Alpine measures swell,
And search the affections to their inmost cell;
Sweet poison spreads along the listener's veins,
Turning past pleasures into mortal pains; 2
Poison, which not a frame of steel can brave,
Bows his young head with sorrow to the grave.*

Gay lark of hope, thy silent song resume!

Ye flattering eastern lights, once more the hills illume 3
Fresh gales and dews of life's delicious morn,*
And thou, lost fragrance of the heart, return!
Alas! the little joy to man allowed

Fades like the lustre of an evening cloud; 5

1

2

1836.

1836.

When the poor heart has all its joys resigned

Soft o'er the waters mournful measures swell,
Unlocking tender thought's "memorial cell;"
Past pleasures are transformed to mortal pains
And poison spreads along the listener's veins.

1820.

1820.

1827.

While poison

3 1836.

Fair smiling lights the purpled hills illume

1815.

*The effect of the famous air called Ranz des Vaches upon the Swiss troops. 1820.

Or like the beauty in a flower installed,
Whose season was, and cannot be recalled.
Yet, when opprest by sickness, grief, or care,
And taught that pain is pleasure's natural heir,
We still confide in more than we can know;
Death would be else the favourite friend of woe.1

'Mid savage rocks, and seas of snow that shine,
Between interminable tracts of pine,
Within a temple stands an awful shrine,2
By an uncertain light revealed, that falls
On the mute Image and the troubled walls.
Oh! give not me that eye of hard disdain
That views, undimmed, Einsiedlen's* wretched fane.
While ghastly faces through the gloom appear,3
Abortive joy, and hope that works in fear;
While prayer contends with silenced agony,
Surely in other thoughts contempt may die.1
If the sad grave of human ignorance bear

One flower of hope-oh, pass and leave it there!

For come Diseases on, and Penury's rage,
Labour, and Care, and Pain, and dismal Age,
Till, Hope-deserted, long in vain his breath
Implores the dreadful untried sleep of Death.

1815.

A Temple stands; which holds an awful shrine,

1815.

3 1936.

Pale, dreadful faces round the shrine appear,

1815.

4

1836.

'Mid muttering prayers all sounds of torment meet,
Dire clap of hands, distracted chafe of feet;
While, loud and dull, ascends the weeping cry,
Surely in other thoughts contempt may die.

1815.

* This shrine is resorted to, from a hope of relief, by multitudes, from every corner of the Catholic world, labouring under mental or bodily afflic tions. 1815.

The tall sun, pausing on an Alpine spire,1 Flings o'er the wilderness a stream of fire: Now meet we other pilgrims ere the day 2

Close on the remnant of their weary way;

While they are drawing towards the sacred floor

Where, so they fondly think, the worm shall gnaw no more.3
How gaily murmur and how sweetly taste

The fountains* reared for them amid the waste!

Their thirst they slake :-they wash their toil-worn feet,
And some with tears of joy each other greet.5

Yes, I must see you when ye first behold
Those holy turrets tipped with evening gold,
In that glad moment will for you a sigh
Be heaved, of charitable sympathy;7

At such an hour there are who love to stray,
And meet the advancing Pilgrims ere the day,

1820.

For ye are drawing toward that sacred floor,
Where the charmed worms of pain shall gnaw no more.

1820.

1827.

1820.

1820.

There some with tearful kiss each other greet,

And some with reverence wash their toil-worn feet,

1827.

* Rude fountains built and covered with sheds for the accommodation of the Pilgrims, in their ascent of the mountain. 1820.

In that glad moment when your hands are prest
In mute devotion on the thankful breast!

Last, let us turn to Chamouny that shields1
With rocks and gloomy woods her fertile fields: 2
Five streams of ice amid her cots descend,

And with wild flowers and blooming orchards blend ;—-
A scene more fair than what the Grecian feigns
Of purple lights and ever-vernal plains;

Here all the seasons revel hand in hand:

'Mid lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fanned,3
They sport beneath that mountain's matchless height
That holds no commerce with the summer night.*
From age to age, throughout his lonely bounds 5
The crash of ruin fitfully resounds;

Here lawns and shades by breezy rivulets fanned,
Here all the seasons revel hand in hand.

1820.

-Red stream the cottage-lights; the landscape fades,
Erroneous wavering 'mid the twilight shades.
Alone ascends that Mountain named of white, +
That holds no commerce with the summer Night.

1820.

Alone ascends that Hill of matchless height

1827.

1836.

amid his lonely bounds

1820.

*This word is pronounced upon the spot Chàmouny. I have taken the liberty of changing the accent. 1820.

+ It is only from the higher part of the valley of Chamouny that Mont Blanc is visible. 1820.

Appalling havoc 1 but serene his brow,
Where daylight lingers on2 perpetual snow;
Glitter the stars above, and all is black below.

What marvel then if many a Wanderer sigh,
While roars the sullen Arve in anger by,3
That not for thy reward, unrivalled Vale !*
Waves the ripe harvest in the autumnal gale;
That thou, the slave of slaves, art doomed to pine
And droop, while no Italian arts are thine,
To soothe or cheer, to soften or refine.5

Hail Freedom! whither it was mine to stray, With shrill winds whistling round my lonely way, On the bleak sides of Cumbria's heath-clad moors, Or where dank sea-weed lashes Scotland's shores; To scent the sweets of Piedmont's breathing rose, And orange gale that o'er Lugano blows;