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Then come!-thy Arab maid will be
The loved and lone acacia-tree;
The antelope, whose feet shall bless
With their light sound thy loneliness.

Oh! there are looks and tones that dart
An instant sunshine through the heart,—
As if the soul that minute caught
Some treasure it through life had sought!

As if the very lips and eyes
Predestined to have all our sighs,
And never be forgot again,
Sparkled and spoke before us then!

So came thy every glance and tone,
When first on me they breathed and shone;
New-as if brought from other spheres,
Yet welcome-as if loved for years!

Then fly with me!—if thou hast known
No other flame, nor falsely thrown
A gem away, that thou hadst sworn
Should ever in thy heart be worn.

Come!-if the love thou hast for me

Is
pure and fresh as mine for thee,----
Fresh as the fountain under ground,
When first 'tis by the lapwing found!

But if for me thou dost forsake
Some other maid, and rudely break
Her worshipp'd image from its base,
To give to me the ruin'd place;

Then, fare thee well-I'd rather make
My bower upon some icy lake,
When thawing suns begin to shine,
Than trust to love so false as thine.

XXX.-ODE TO ELOQUENCE.

HEARD ye those loud-contending waves,
That shook Cecropia's pillar'd state?
ye
the mighty from their graves
Look up, and tremble at her fate?

Saw

Who shall calm the angry storm?
Who the mighty task perform,

And bid the raging tumult cease?
See the son of Hermes rise,

With Syren tongue, and speaking eyes,
Hush the noise, and soothe to peace!

See the olive branches waving
O'er Ilissus' winding stream,
Their lovely limbs the Naiads laving,
The Muses smiling by, supreme!

See the nymphs and swains advancing,
To harmonious measures dancing:
Grateful Io Pæans rise

To thee, O Power! who can inspire
Soothing words—or words of fire,

And shook thy plumes in Attic skies!

Lo! from the regions of the north,
The reddening storm of battle pours,
Rolls along the trembling earth,

Fastens on the Olynthian towers.

Where rests the sword? where sleep the brave? Awake! Cecropia's ally save

From the fury of the blast:

Burst the storm on Phocis' walls,
Rise! or Greece for ever falls;

Up! or freedom breathes her last.

The jarring States, obsequious now,
View the patriot's hand on high;
Thunder gathering on his brow,
Lightning flashing from his eye.
Borne by the tide of words along,

One voice, one mind, inspire the throng:
"To arms! to arms! to arms!" they cry;

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Grasp the shield, and draw the sword; Lead us to Philippi's lord;

Let us conquer him, or die!”

Ah, Eloquence! thou wast undone;
Wast from thy native country driven,
When Tyranny eclipsed the sun,

And blotted out the stars of heaven!

When Liberty from Greece withdrew,
And o'er the Adriatic flew

To where the Tiber pours his urn—
She struck the rude Tarpeian rock,
Sparks were kindled by the stroke-
Again thy fires began to burn!

Now shining forth, thou mad'st compliant
The Conscript Fathers to thy charms,
Roused the world-bestriding giant,
Sinking fast in Slavery's arms.

I see thee stand by Freedom's fane,
Pouring the persuasive strain,

Giving vast conceptions birth!
Hark! I hear thy thunders sound,
Shake the Forum round and round,
Shake the pillars of the earth!

First-born of Liberty divine!

Put on Religion's bright array:
Speak! and the starless grave shall shine
The portal of eternal day!

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Rise, kindling with the orient beam,
Let Calvary's hill inspire the theme,

Unfold the garments roll'd in blood!
Oh, touch the soul-touch all her chords
With all the omnipotence of words,

And point the way to heaven-to God!

XXXI.-HOPE AT THE CLOSE OF LIFE.

UNFADING Hope! when life's last embers burn, When soul to soul, and dust to dust return! Heav'n to thy charge resigns the awful hour! Oh! then, thy kingdom comes! Immortal Power! What though each spark of earth-born rapture fly The quivering lip, pale cheek, and closing eye! Bright to the soul thy seraph hands convey The morning dream of life's eternal day— Then, then, the triumph and the trance begin! And all the phoenix spirit burns within!

O deep-enchanting prelude to repose, The dawn of bliss, the twilight of our woes! Yet half I hear the panting spirit sigh, It is a dread and awful thing to die! Mysterious worlds, untravell'd by the sun! Where Time's far wandering tide has never run, From your unfathom'd shades, and viewless spheres, A warning comes, unheard by other ears. "Tis Heaven's commanding trumpet, long and loud, Like Sinai's thunder, pealing from the cloud! While Nature hears with terror-mingled trust, The shock that hurls her fabric to the dust; And, like the trembling Hebrew, when he trod The roaring waves, and call'd upon his God, With mortal terrors clouds immortal bliss, And shrieks, and hovers o'er the dark abyss! Daughter of Faith, awake, arise, illume The dread unknown, the chaos of the tomb;

Melt, and dispel, ye spectre-doubts, that roll
Cimmerian darkness on the parting soul!
Fly, like the moon-eyed herald of dismay,
Chased on his night-steed by the star of day!
The strife is o'er the pangs of Nature close,
And life's last rapture triumphs o'er her woes.
Hark! as the spirit eyes, with eagle gaze,
The noon of heav'n undazzled by the blaze.
On heav'nly winds that waft her to the sky,
Float the sweet tones of star-born melody;
Wild as the hallow'd anthem sent to hail
Bethlehem's shepherds in the lonely vale,
When Jordan hush'd his waves, and midnight still
Watch'd on the holy tow'rs of Zion hill!

XXXII. WHAT CONSTITUTES A STATE?

WHAT constitutes a state?

Not high-rais'd battlement and labour'd mound, Thick wall, or moated gate:

Not cities proud, with spires and turrets crown'd: Not bays and broad-arm'd ports,

Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride: Not starr'd and spangled courts,

Where low-bred baseness wafts perfume to pride: No-men, high-minded men,

With powers as far above dull brutes endu'd,

In forest, brake, or den,

As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude:

Men, who their duties know,

But know their rights: and, knowing, dare maintain,

Prevent the long-aim'd blow,

And crush the tyrant, while they rend the chain.

These constitute a state:

And sovereign law, that state's collected will,

O'er thrones and globes elate,

Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill.

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