IX.

6

Shriek not-but hearken! WE HAVE REIGNED

ON EARTH, AND ARE NOT!' it is well;

Rest, hoary Elder, unprofaned,

Within thy dark and narrow cell!

What voice, grim WARRIOR, to the spell
Yield'st thou; who once, in Palestine,
With Coeur-de-Lion, or with Clare,
Unfurled thy banners in the air,
And kissed the sacred shrine?

X.

Speak, for thou hear'st! I LIVED-I LOVED,
I FOUGHT, AND AM NOT! Sheathe thy sword;
It is enough; the Cross, that moved

Thy fire and Luther's, stands restored!
What speech is thine, O thou, THE ADORED

OF ALL! thy poets, did not they

Vaunt thee immortal, and bribe Fame

With thousand songs to keep thy name Triumphant o'er decay?

XI.

Speak, then, thy history; unclose
Once more thy ruby lips,-I bend
Above, and round thee strew the rose,
Expectant, till thy voice ascend :-

'I CHARMED,- -AND AM NOT!'-Heav'n befriend

Thy gentle shade; 'tis sooth!-ev'n so,

We, for whose pleasure Nature showers
Her autumn fruits and summer flowers,

Like you, but come to go.

XII.

On the same antique throne forlorn

I sit, where British kings were crowned,
And blow the huge old Saxon horn,

Which ULPH himself in battle wound,-
With which, his grey dogs barking round,
He roused the wild-wolf from its scaur,
And with his blue-eyed heroes quaffed
In yellow mead a wassail-draught
To Woden and to Thor.

XIII.

Ages on ages have not marred

The ivory tusk, the regal chair,

But all is passed beside-the bard,

Chief, maiden, king, where are they, where!
I weep not for them; earth and air

Will do for us what they have done

With them: sing on, thou lonely bird,

Our grateful songs shall yet be heard Above the shining Sun!

XIV.

Earth's aged aspects all may change,

Shrines be destroyed, fanes weed-o'ergrown; Customs and rites wax quaint and strange, And ev❜n our names no more be known; What then? the SACRIFICE, foreshown

By thousand prophecies, has giv'n
Just spirits access to the Light,

And, in the book where Angels write
Just names, renown in Heaven!

XV.

Then, though this earthly form decay
Like the sere leaf, as soon it must,
Not all that wits or sceptics say

Shall rob me of my brightest trust! TIME! raise no marble o'er My dust To boast of virtues ne'er possessed; Enough for me, if I but so

Live now, as, ages hence, to know I WEPT, BELIEVED, AND REST!

Woburn Abbey,

11th Mo. 12th, 1825.

THE PAST AND THE FUTURE;

An Entroductory Poem

FOR THE THIRTEENTH VOLUME OF TIME'S TELESCOPE.

BY DELTA OF BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE;

Author of the Legend of Genevieve.

I.

UPROSE the full Moon in a heaven of blue,

And sweetly sang the hermit nightingale,
As, with slow steps, I sauntered through the vale,
Brushing aside the wild-flowers bright with dew;—
There hung a purple haze athwart the hills;

And all was hushed beside me and remote;
Gleamed, as they trickled, the pellucid rills,

Or 'neath the sallows dank seclusion sought;

The stars, dim-twinkling in celestial mirth,

Seemed sleepless eyes that watched the slumber-mantled earth.

II.

Awhile I strayed beneath arbútus trees,

As the scarce-breathing west-wind, with a sigh,
The glittering greenness kissed in wandering by;
Around me roses bloomed; and, over these,
The moss-browned lilac and laburnum bright

Commingled their blown richness; perfume sweet
From wild-flowers breathed, and violets exquisite,
Crushed in their beauty by my careless feet;

O'er earth and air a slumberous influence stole,
With wizard power, that charmed the billows of the soul.

C

III.

So, as reclining 'mid the blooms I lay,

The moonlight and the landscape bland declined,
And, rapt from outward shows, the tranced mind
Woke 'mid the splendours of another day.—
It was a wondrous scene; receding far

Into the distance, hills o'er hills arose,

Of mighty shapes and shades irregular, —

Here green with verdurc, and there capped in snows; Here gorgeous groves, there desert wastes sublime; And, gazing, well I knew the changeful realm of Time.

IV.

In the midst a temple stood, whose arches shewed
All architecture's grand varieties;

Carved columns reared their summits to the skies,
While, over others, the dark mould was strewed:
Pile picturesque and wild! with spires, and domes,
And pyramids, and pillars manifold,

And vaults, wherein both bird and beast made homes;
And part was strongly fresh; and part was old;

And part was mantled o'er by Ruin grey;
And part from eye of man had wholly sunk away.

V.

Methought a Spirit led me up the tower,

And bade me gaze to the east ;-there, calmly bright,
Revolving pageants charmed my tranced sight,

In that deep glow of Inspiration's hour,

As changed the vision.—On Moriah's steeps
Behold a victim son for offering bound,
While the keen knife the awless Patriarch keeps
Unsheathed to perpetrate the mortal wound;
But, hark, an Angel-"Stay thy hand from death-

For God hath known thee just, Heav'n murmurs of thy faith."