To intercept the sun's glad beams-may ne'er
That true succession fail of English hearts,
Who, with ancestral feeling, can perceive
What in those holy structures ye possess
Of ornamental interest, and the charm
Of pious sentiment diffused afar,
And human charity, and social love.

Thus never shall the indignities of time
Approach their reverend graces, unopposed;
Nor shall the elements be free to hurt
Their fair proportions; nor the blinder rage
Of bigot zeal madly to overturn;
And, if the desolating hand of war
Spare them, they shall continue to bestow,
Upon the thronged abodes of busy men
(Depraved, and ever prone to fill the mind
Exclusively with transitory things)
An air and mien of dignified pursuit;
Of sweet civility, on rustic wilds.

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The Poet, fostering for his native land Such hope, entreats that servants may abound Of those pure altars worthy; ministers Detached from pleasure, to the love of gain 45 Superior, insusceptible of pride, And by ambitious longings undisturbed; Men, whose delight is where their duty leads Or fixes them; whose least distinguished day Shines with some portion of that heavenly lustre

50

Which makes the sabbath lovely in the sight
Of blessed angels, pitying human cares.
—And, as on earth it is the doom of truth
To be perpetually attacked by foes.
Open or covert, be that priesthood still,
For her defence, replenished with a band
Of strenuous champions, in scholastic arts

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Thoroughly disciplined; nor (if in course
Of the revolving world's disturbances.
Cause should recur, which righteous Heaven
avert!

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To meet such trial) from their spiritual sires Degenerate; who, constrained to wield the sword

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Of disputation, shrunk not, though assailed
With hostile din, and combating in sight
Of angry umpires, partial and unjust;
And did, thereafter, bathe their hands in fire,
So to declare the conscience satisfied:
Nor for their bodies would accept release;
But, blessing God and praising him, be-
queathed

With their last breath, from out the smouldering flame,

70

The faith which they by diligence had earned,
Or, through illuminating grace, received,
For their dear countrymen, and all mankind.
O high example, constancy divine!

Even such a Man (inheriting the zeal 75 And from the sanctity of elder times Not deviating, a priest, the like of whom, If multiplied, and in their stations set, Would o'er the bosom of a joyful land Spread true religion and her genuine fruits) 80 Before me stood that day; on holy ground Fraught with the relics of mortality, Exalting tender themes, by just degrees To lofty raised; and to the highest, last; The head and mighty paramount of truths,-85 Immortal life, in never-fading worlds, For mortal creatures, conquered and secured.

That basis laid, those principles of faith

Announced, as a preparatory act

Of reverence done to the spirit of the place, 90
The Pastor cast his eyes upon the ground;
Not, as before, like one oppressed with awe,
But with a mild and social cheerfulness;
Then to the Solitary turned, and spake.

"At morn or eve, in your retired domain, 95 Perchance you not unfrequently have marked A Visitor-in quest of herbs and flowers; Too delicate employ, as would appear, For one, who, though of drooping mien, had yet From nature's kindliness received a frame Robust as ever rural labour bred."

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The Solitary answered: "Such a Form Full well I recollect. We often crossed Each other's path; but, as the Intruder seemed Fondly to prize the silence which he kept, 105 And I as willingly did cherish mine,

We met, and passed, like shadows. I have heard,

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From my good Host, that being crazed in brain
By unrequited love, he scaled the rocks,
Dived into caves, and pierced the matted woods,
In hope to find some virtuous herb of power
To cure his malady!"

The Vicar smiled,-
"Alas! before to-morrow's sun goes down
His habitation will be here: for him
That open grave is destined.”

"Died he then 115 Of pain and grief?" the Solitary asked, "Do not believe it; never could that be!"

""

He loved," the Vicar answered, “deeply loved,

Loved fondly, truly, fervently; and dared
At length to tell his love, but sued in vain; 120
Rejected, yea repelled; and, if with scorn
Upon the haughty maiden's brow, 'tis but
A high-prized plume which female Beauty

wears

In wantonness of conquest, or puts on

To cheat the world, or from herself to hide 125 Humiliation, when no longer free.

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That he could brook, and glory in ;-but when
The tidings came that she whom he had wooed
Was wedded to another, and his heart
Was forced to rend away its only hope;
Then, Pity could have scarcely found on earth
An object worthier of regard than he,
In the transition of that bitter hour!
Lost was she, lost; nor could the Sufferer say
That in the act of preference he had been
Unjustly dealt with; but the Maid was gone!
Had vanished from his prospects and desires ;
Not by translation to the heavenly choir
Who have put off their mortal spoils―ah no!
She lives another's wishes to complete,-
'Joy be their lot, and happiness,' he cried,
His lot and hers, as misery must be mine!'

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"Such was that strong concussion; but the Man,

Who trembled, trunk and limbs, like some huge oak

By a fierce tempest shaken, soon resumed 145
The steadfast quiet natural to a mind
Of composition gentle and sedate,

And, in its movements, circumspect and slow.
To books, and to the long-forsaken desk,
O'er which enchained by science he had loved
To bend, he stoutly re-addressed himself,

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Resolved to quell his pain, and search for truth
With keener appetite (if that might be)
And closer industry. Of what ensued
Within the heart no outward sign appeared 155
Till a betraying sickliness was seen

To tinge his cheek; and through his frame it crept

With slow mutation unconcealable;

Such universal change as autumn makes
In the fair body of a leafy grove
Discoloured, then divested.

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'Tis affirmed

By poets skilled in nature's secret ways
That Love will not submit to be controlled
By mastery-and the good Man lacked not
friends

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Who strove to instil this truth into his mind, A mind in all heart-mysteries unversed. 'Go to the hills,' said one, 'remit a while This baneful diligence:-at early morn Court the fresh air, explore the heaths and woods;

And, leaving it to others to foretell,

By calculations sage, the ebb and flow
Of tides, and when the moon will be eclipsed,
Do you, for your own benefit, construct
A calendar of flowers, plucked as they blow
Where health abides, and cheerfulness, and
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peace.'

The attempt was made ;--'tis needless to report
How hopelessly; but innocence is strong,
And an entire simplicity of mind

A thing most sacred in the eye of Heaven;
That opens, for such sufferers, relief
Within the soul, fountains of grace divine;
And doth commend their weakness and disease
To Nature's care, assisted in her office

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