And thither let the village swain repair:
And light of heart, the village maiden gay,
To deck with flowers her half-dishevell'd hair,-

Book II. Stanza XVIII.

THE

MINSTREL.

Published by R. & WA Bartow NewYork.

"O thou, at whose creative smile, yon heaven, In all the pomp of beauty, life, and light,

Rose from the abyss: when dark Confusion, driven
Down, down the bottomless profound of night,
Fled, where he ever flies thy piercing sight!
O glance on these sad shades one pitying ray,
To blast the fury of oppressive might,

Melt the hard heart to love and mercy's sway, And cheer the wandering soul, and light him on the way."

Silence ensued: and Edwin raised his eyes
In tears, for grief lay heavy at his heart.
"And is it thus, in courtly life," he cries,
"That man to man acts a betrayer's part?
And dares he thus the gifts of Heaven pervert,
Each social instinct, and sublime desire!
Hail Poverty! if honour, wealth, and art,
If what the great pursue, and learned admire,
Thus dissipate and quench the souls ethereal fire!

He said, and turned away; nor did the Sage
O'erhear, in silent orisons employed.
The youth, his rising sorrow to assuage,
Home as he hied, the evening scene enjoyed;
For now no cloud obscure's the starry void;
The yellow moonlight sleeps on all the hills;
Nor is the mind with startling sounds annoyed,
A soothing murmur the lone region fills

Of groves, and dying gales, and melancholy rills.

N

But he from day to day more anxious grew, The voice still seemed to vibrate on his ear, Nor durst he hope the Hermit's tale untrue; For Man he seemed to love, and Heaven to fear; And none speaks false where there is none to hear. "Yet can man's gentle heart become so fell! No more in vain conjecture let me wear My hours away, but seek the Hermit's cell: 'Tis he my doubt can clear, perhaps my care dispel."

At early dawn the youth his journey took,
And many a mountain passed, and valley wide,
Then reached the wild ; where in a flowery nook,
And seated on a mossy stone, he spied

An ancient man: his harp lay him beside.
A stag sprang from the pasture at his call,
And, kneeling, licked the withered hand that tied
A wreath of woodbine round his antler's tall,
And hung his lofty neck with many a flow'ret small.

And now the hoary Sage arose, and saw

The wanderer approaching, innocence Smiled on his glowing cheek, but modest awe Depressed his eye, that feared to give offence. "Who art thou courteous stranger? and from whence ?

Why roam thy steps to this sequestered dale?" "A shepherd boy," the youth replied, " far hence My habitation: hear my artless tale;

Nor levity nor falsehood shall thine ear assail.

"Late as I roamed intent on Nature's charms, I reached at eve this wilderness profound;

And, leaning where yon oak expands her arms, Heard these rude cliffs thine awful voice rebound, (For in thy speech I recognize the sound,) You mourned for ruined man, and virtue lost, And seemed to feel of keen remorse the wound, Pondering on former days, by guilt engrossed, Or in the giddy storm of dissipation tossed.

"But say, in courtly life can craft be learned,
Where knowledge opens, and exalts the soul,
Where Fortune lavishes her gifts unearned,
Can selfishness the liberal heart control?
Is glory there achieved by arts, as foul
As those which felons, fiends, and furies plan?
Spiders ensnare, snakes poison, tygers prowl;
Love is the godlike attribute of man.

O teach a simple youth this mystery to scan.

"Or else the lamentable strain disclaim,
And give me back the calm contented mind;
Which, late exulting viewed in Nature's frame,
Goodness untainted, wisdom unconfined,
Grace, grandeur, and utility combined.

Restore those tranquil days, that saw me still
Well pleased with all, but most with human-kind;
When Fancy roamed through Nature's works at
will,

Unchecked by cold distrust and uninformed of ill."