Short Poems

The hermit's solace in his cell,
The fire that warms the poet's brain,
The lover's heaven, or his hell,
The madman's sport, the wise man's pain.

G EORGE came to the crown without striking a blow:
Ah, quoth the Pretender , would I could do so!

How ill the motion with the musick suits!
So Orpheus fidled, and so danc'd the brutes.

Then never let me see her more!
In vain I sigh, in vain adore.
In some lonely Desart Place,
Far from Sight of Human Race;
In some unfrequented Cell,
Where neither Joy nor Sorrow dwell,
Oh! let me' endeavour to forget
At once my self, and Amoret .

We cheered you forth — brilliant and kind and brave.
Under your country's triumphing flag you fell.
It floats, true Heart, over no dearer grave —
Brave and brilliant and kind, hail and farewell!

O THOU that with a gesture canst control
All seas that roll;
O Thou that with a whisper canst assuage
All winds that rage:
Behold how softer than the human breast
The wild bird's nest!
Behold how calmer than the world of men
The wild beast's den!

The earth lay black and weeping, till from God
Came a reflection of the Eternal Face;
And every common weed and branch and clod
Knew itself kindred to the spheres of space.

When my hair is thin and gray,
When there's wrinkles on my brow;
When my eyes are dim, and when
Feeble is my step and slow,
This one question I would ask,
This one question, sweetheart, dear,
Will you love me then as now,
Love me truly and sincere.

The sea before me
Is harassed and stormy:
The low sky o'er me
Is haggard and wan.
With gray tides foaming,
And drear winds roaming,
And tired gulls homing,
Great Night comes on.

If one who lacks no just applause, and who
Stands like a living simile of success,
Should yet have sought to pierce me through and through
With his renowned pen-poniard, o'er and o'er,
Should Iforgive him? Yes!
Nothing could cost me less,
Or gall him more.