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Thousand Lines :

NOW FIRST OFFERED

TO THE WORLD WE LIVE IN.

( deem not, midst this worldly strife,
An idle art the Poet brings,

Let high Philosophy control
And Sages calm the stream of life,
'Tis he refines its fountain springs,
The nobler passions of the soul.

CAMPBELL.

LONDON:

J. HATCHARD & SON, 187, PICCADILLY.

1845.

LONDON:

PRINTED BY J. G. PALMER, SAVJY STREET STRANI).

A THOUSAND LINES.

PROLOGUE.

My heart presents her gift; in turn, of thee

I ask a little time, an idle hour, Kindly to spend with these my thoughts and me, i

Wooing the fragrance of the Muses' bower : Not without name or note, yet nameless now

As one devoid of fame and skill and power,

Bearing no charge upon mine argent shield, A candidate unknown with vizored brow,

Full of young hopes I dare the tented field ! Not so this is no time for measuring swords ;

Thou art no craven though thy spirit yield, For yonder are fair looks and friendly words :

Choose a more peaceful image :-here, reveald Shines a small sample of my golden hoards.

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