LOVE thou thy land, with love far-brought From out the storied Past, and used Within the Present, but transfused Thro' future time by power of thought. True love turn'd round on fixed poles, Love, that endures not sordid ends, For English natures, freemen, friends, Thy brothers and immortal souls. But pamper not a hasty time, Nor feed with crude imaginings The herd, wild hearts and feeble wings, That every sophister can lime. Deliver not the tasks of might To weakness, neither hide the ray From those, not blind, who wait for day, Tho' sitting girt with doubtful light. Make knowledge circle with the winds; Watch what main-currents draw the years: Cut Prejudice against the grain : But gentle words are always gain : Regard the weakness of thy peers : Nor toil for title, place, or touch Of pension, neither count on praise : It grows to guerdon after-days: Nor deal in watch-words overmuch : We all are changed by still degrees, All but the basis of the soul. So let the change which comes be free To ingroove itself with that, which flies, And work, a joint of state, that plies Its office, moved with sympathy. A saying, hard to shape in act; For all the past of Time reveals Ev'n now we hear with inward strife Completion in a painful school; The warders of the growing hour, But vague in vapor, hard to mark; And round them sea and air are dark With great contrivances of Power. If New and Old, disastrous feud, Not yet the wise of heart would cease Not less, tho' dogs of Faction bay, Would serve his kind in deed and word, Certain, if knowledge bring the sword, That knowledge takes the sword away It clack'd and cackled louder. Would love the gleams of good that broke | But ah! the more the white goose laid It clutter'd here, it chuckled there; And hurl'd the pan and kettle. "A quinsy choke thy cursed note!" Then yelp'd the cur, and yawl'd the cat ; As head and heels upon the floor He took the goose upon his arm, He utter'd words of scorning; The wild wind rang from park and plain, And half the chimneys tumbled. The glass blew in, the fire blew out, And a whirlwind clear'd the larder: And while on all sides breaking loose ENGLISH IDYLS AND OTHER POEMS. THE EPIC. (PUBLISHED 1842.) AT Francis Allen's on the Christmas eve, The game of forfeits done the girls all kiss'd Beneath the sacred bush and past awayThe parson Holmes, the poet Everard Hall, The host, and I sat round the wassailbowl, Then half-way ebb'd: and there we held a talk, How all the old honor had from Christmas gone, Or gone, or dwindled down to some odd games In some odd nooks like this; till I, tired out With cutting eights that day upon the pond, Where, three times slipping from the outer edge, I bump'd the ice into three several stars, Fell in a doze; and half-awake I heard The parson taking wide and wider sweeps, Now harping on the church-commission So all day long the noise of battle roll'd The bold Sir Bedivere uplifted him, Lay a great water, and the moon was full. vere : "The sequel of to-day unsolders all a sleep Shall nevermore, at any future time, deeds, Walking about the gardens and the halls By zig-zag paths, and juts of pointed rock, bur, Ando'er him, drawing it, the winter moon, Brightening the skirts of a long cloud, ran forth And sparkled keen with frost against the hilt: For all the haft twinkled with diamond Myriads of topaz-lights, and jacinth-work This way and that dividing the swift mind, I am so deeply smitten thro' the helm In those old days, one summer noon, an marge. So strode he back slow to the wounded Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedi vere : "Hast thou perform'd my mission which I gave? What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?" And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere: "I heard the ripple washing in the reeds, And the wild water lapping on the crag.' To whom replied King Arthur, faint and pale: 19 "Thou hast betray'd thy nature and thy Not rendering true answer, as beseem'd I bade thee, watch, and lightly bring me Then went Sir Bedivere the second time Across the ridge, and paced beside the mere, Counting the dewy pebbles, fix'd in But when he saw the wonder of the hilt, smote His palms together, and he cried aloud. "And if indeed I cast the brand away. Surely a precious thing, one worthy note, |