Over the top, as he knew well,
Beyond the glacier in the dell

A herd of chamois slept,
So down the other dreary side,
With cautious tread, or careless slide,
He bounded, or he crept.

And now he nears the chasmed ice;
He stoops to leap,—and in a trice,

His foot hath slipp'd,—O heaven!
He hath leapt in, and down he falls
Between those blue tremendous walls,
Standing asunder riven!

But quick his clutching nervous grasp
Contrives a jutting crag to clasp,
And thus he hangs in air;—

O moment of exulting bliss!
Yet hope so nearly hopeless is
Twin-brother to despair.

He look'd beneath,- -a horrible doom!
Some thousand yards of deepening gloom,
Where he must drop to die!

He look'd above, and many a rood
Upright the frozen ramparts stood
Around a speck of sky.

Seven long dreadful hours he hung,
And often by strong breezes swung
His fainting body twists;

Scarce can he cling one moment more,
His half-dead hands are ice, and sore
His burning bursting wrists;

His head grows dizzy, he must drop,
He half resolves,-but stop, O stop,
Hold on to the last spasm,
Never in life give up your hope,—
Behold, behold a friendly rope

Is dropping down the chasm!

They call thee Pierre,—see, see them here,
Thy gather'd neighbours far and near,
Courage! man, hold on fast :—
And so from out that terrible place,
With death's pale paint upon his face
They drew him up at last.

And he came home an alter'd man
For many harrowing terrors ran

Through his poor heart that day;

He thought how all through life, though young, Upon a thread, a hair, he hung,

Over a gulf midway :

He thought what fear it were to fall

Into the pit that swallows all,

Unwing'd with hope and love;

And when the succour came at last,
O then he learnt how firm and fast
Was his best Friend above.

A Short Reply

TO ONE WHO "DISLIKED POETRY."

Lady, thou lovest high and holy Thought,

And noble Deeds, and Hopes sublime or beauteous, Thou lovest Charities in secret wrought,

And all things pure, and generous, and duteous;
What then if these be drest in robes of power,
Triumphant WORDS, that thrill the heart of man,
Conquering for good beyond the flitting hour,
With stately march, and music in the van?

Sonnets

TO SEVENTY OF THE GREAT AND GOOD, IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER. (From "A Modern Pyramid," published in 1839.)

Our fresh

Abel.

young world lay basking in its prime,
And all around was peace; the leprous spot
On her fair forehead Nature heeded not,
So beauteously she smiled in love sublime:
Yet, even then, upon thy gentle form

Rush'd the black whirlwind of a brother's crime,
Breaking that calm of universal love

With the fierce blast of murder's pitiless storm,
Awroth at goodness;-thee, truth's stricken dove,
First victim of oppression's iron feet,

Religion's earliest martyr, slain by pride

And man's self-righteousness, with praises meet Thee would my soul's affection humbly greet, Trusting the Lamb whereon thy faith relied.

Of whom earth was not worthy; for alone
Among the dense degenerate multitude,
Witness to truth, and teacher of all good,
Enoch, thy solitary lustre shone

For thrice an hundred years, in trust and love
Walking with GOD: so sped thy blameless life
That He, thy Worship, justly could approve
His patriarch-servant, and when sinners scoff'd
The bold prophetic woe with judgment rife,
Or hurl'd at thee their threaten'd vengeance oft,
From those fell clamours of ungodly strife
GOD took thee to Himself:-Behold, on high
The car of dazzling glory, borne aloft,

Wings the blest mortal through the startled sky!

Zoroaster.

Fathomless past! what precious secrets lie

Gulph'd in thy depths,-how brave a mingled throng,
Fathers of wisdom, bards of mighty song,
Hearts gushing with warm hopes, and feelings high,
Lovers, and sages, prophets, priests, and kings,
Sleep nameless in thy drear obscurity:

Fathomless past!-the vague conception brings,
Amid thick-coming thoughts of olden things,
Hoar Zoroaster, -as he walk'd sometime
In shadowy Babel, and around him stood
The strangely-mitred earnest multitude
Listening the wonders of his speech sublime:
Hail, mantled ghost, I track thy light from far,
On the chaotic dark an 66 exiled star."

Thou friend of GOD, the paragon of faith!
Simply to trust, unanswering to obey,

This was thy strength; and happy sons are they, Father, who follow thee through life and death, Ready at His mysterious command

The heart's most choice affectionate hopes to slay With more than Martyr's suicidal hand, Their sole sufficing cause,-Jehovah saith,— Their only murmur'd prayer, His will be done : Ev'n so, thy god-like spirit did not spare

Thy cherish'd own, thy promised only son, Trusting that He, whose word was never vain, Could raise to life the victim offer'd there, And to the father give his child again.

Semiramis.

Stupendous Babylon! before mine eyes
Thy mountain walls, and marble terraces,
Domes, temples, tow'rs, and golden palaces
In vision'd recollection grandly rise

Huge and obscure, as icebergs in a cloud;
And mingling there a dense barbaric crowd
Throng thy triumphal car with eastern state,
Moon of the world, Semiramis the Great!

Ambiguous shade of majesty supreme. Upon the night of ages limn'd sublime,

We think of thee but as a glorious dream,

And, waiving those dark hints of unproved crime, Fain would we hope thee great and good combined, To hail thee patriot Queen, and mighty Mind.