Where, by the calculating sage we're told
A ball of fire revolves unconsciously,
Phoebus Apollo then his chariot roll'd
From east to west in silent majesty ;
Some Oread made each mountain her abode,
Some Dryad in each falling tree was slain,
And from the urn of lovely Naiad flow'd
Each silver-foaming stream along the plain.
VOL. III.

Your temples then like courts of kings did rise,
The sacred games were held to honour you,
Where Isthmus, rich in glory, dealt the prize
And o'er the plain the rival chariots flew :
Your altars then were gloriously attended,

When happy youths and maidens danced around them,
A sweeter sleep upon your brows descended
When the victorious wreaths of laurel bound them.

Evöe Bacchus! hark! they wildly sing;
And shake their thyrsi to the joyous measure;
The spotted panthers with his chariot spring,
Bacchantes dance around the god of pleasure.
The rustic faun and satyr wild are there,
And in the luscious dance their arms entwine;
The ruddy features of the god declare
The mirth-inspiring virtues of the vine.

Then did there pass before the bed of death
No ghastly forms of terror and affright;
A Kiss absorbed the last expiring breath,
A Genius plunged his torch in endless night;
In solemn judgment then upon the dead
One that descended from a mortal sate;
The feeling notes that Thracian Orpheus play'd
Had even power to check the hand of Fate.

Then happy friends again were wont to rove
Together o'er Elysium's flowery meads,
There did the lover find again his love,
The Olympic victor urged again his steeds,
Linus resumed his soul-enrapturing strain,
Alcestis met her lord, secure from harms,
Orestes recognised his friend again,
And Philoctetes found again his arms.

Then by the gods was given a higher prize
To him who won in virtue's arduous race;
And those who nobly lived, were called to rise
O'er death victorious, to a nobler place-
The gods did honour unto him who tried
Boldly to win the dead to life again;
The heavenly twins shone brightly forth to guide
The mortal wanderer o'er the trackless main.

Fair world where art thou? Turn, ah ! turn again
Ye blooming forms that gladdened Nature's face;
In fairy dreams of poetry remain

Alone, those airy visions golden trace;

The fields lament, their spring of life is gone,

Each rural deity I seek in vain ;

Ah! of those living images alone

The empty, lifeless shadows, now remain.

Weep for those lovely flowers, the wintry blast
Has breathed upon them, and they all are dead;
The glorious host of ancient Gods has passed,
In one, engrossing all, concentrated;

I sadly gaze upon the starry sky,
Selene, there I look in vain for thee;
Among the woods, upon the waves I cry,
But only empty Echo answers me.

Nature, unconscious of the joy she yields,
Sees not her own surpassing excellence,
Knows not the mighty weapons that she wields,
Feels not the fervour of my grateful sense.
No longer glories in her Maker's honour;
For, like a Minster-bell's unvaried tone,
The heavy hand of human power is on her,
And Nature's great Divinity is gone.

Earth, in a self-wrought tomb, now nightly lies,
And, self-created, rises with the morn;
The moon renews her beauty in the skies,
A cold material system to adorn ;

The ruling powers whom they no longer need,
Into the ideal land of song are flown,
And nature, from their gentle influence freed,
Is left to walk unguided and alone.

Yes, they are gone! the Beautiful is banished
With them, the Noble followed in their train,
The colours and the tone of life have vanished,
The lifeless letter only doth remain,
By the stream of Time no longer borne along,
Apart, o'er Pindus' mystic height, they fly.
Alas! that all, who in immortal song

Would live upon the earth are doomed to die!

C.

SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY THROUGH LONDON AND

WESTMINSTER.

INTRODUCTION.