English

Weary of strife renewed from day to day,
Th' inveterate war of parties brought to bay,
With clash of hatreds jarring on his sense,
And poison'd darts of hostile eloquence,
With all the excitement of the brain and heart,
That forms the life of men, who play their part
In mighty dramas, — Danton lay at rest,
His face to Heaven, his hands upon his breast,
And said within himself, — " It must not be —
Surely this grief shall end, and France be free."

He closed his eyes, and saw a vision pass

This is the holy missal Shakespeare wrote,
For friends to ponder when they grieve alone;
Within these collects his great heart would note
Its joy and fear, its ecstasy and moan;
Our strength and weakness each was felt by him;
He yearned and shrank, rejoiced and hoped and bled;
Nor ever will his sacred song be dim,
Though he himself, the Friend of Friends, is dead.
Then, on sad evenings when you think of me,
Or when the morn seems blithe, yet I not near,
Open this book, and read, and I shall be

SET FORTH TO BE SUNG TO THE BASS VIOL IN PRAISE OF M R . B ULLEN HIS EDITION OF THE WORKS OF D R . T HOMAS C AMPION

He comes again!
The latest, not the least desired!
Too long, in mouldering tomes retired,
We sought in vain
Those breathing airs
Which, from his instrument,
Like vocal winds of perfume, blent
To soothe man's piercing cares.

Bullen, well done!

FOR HAVING CALLED Louis P HILIPPE AN H ONEST M AN .

Yes: I was wrong, and very wrong,
In the eulogium of my lay, —
So I indite another song,
To clear my conscience while I may.
A year ago I thought him wise, —
I thought him virtuous of intent;
But time has purified my eyes,
And I repent me — I repent!

I thought and call'd him honest man ,
Unsway'd by dirty love of pelf:

Reduc'd by fate and air-built schemes,
From prospects fine and golden dreams,
With native confidence tho' poor,
Young Merit knock'd at Fortune 's door.
 'Twas after dinner, and my lady
Was at her toilet getting ready,
To go old Niggles's rout,
By nine or ten or thereabout.
For a night' pleasures, it is said
Begin when half the town' in bed;
And as to work the vulgar rise
But few of these have clos'd their eyes;
Day is their night, and night their day,
So order'd by the laws of play;

How do the flashes of light on the mirrorlike rivulet sparkle!
Seems the golden marge with its own ardour aglow.
But the ripples are carried adown the glittering highway
Forcing each other along, feather, and hasten away: —
Such is the fugitive spark which man denominates honour:
Not he shines, but the scene, where he may happen to be.

Blessings on England!—but why should I bless her?
  I that she tutor'd from bad into worse;—
I that could never, since Reason possess'd me,
 Balance my faults by the weight of my purse.
She's a very good land for the man who has money,
 But Misery gives her, as I do, a curse.

What else should I give her? One day, in my boyhood,
 I pluck'd from a branch a fair apple, that swung
Tempting and ripe o'er the wall of an orchard,
 But, ere the first morsel delighted my tongue,
Was hurried to gaol, where some older offenders

Twofold is the road by which a man is exalted;
If in the one he fail, open the other appears.
This to patience appeals, and that to vigorous action,
Happy the man whose fate grants him a portion of each.

Farewell, England! blessings on thee,
Stern and niggard as thou art;
Harshly, Mother, thou hast used me,
And my bread thou hast refused me,
But 'tis agony to part.
'T will pass over; for I would not
Bear again what I could tell; —
Half the ills that I have suffer'd:
Though I loved thee twice as well.
So — my blessings on thee, England,
And a long and last farewell!

Other regions will provide me

Between two friends in days of old
A bitter strife began,
And Father Spade with Brother Trade
Disputed man to man.
" You're vain, undutiful, and proud,"
Said Spade, with flashing eyes.
" You earn your thousands while I starve;
You mock my children's cries.
You ride in state with lordly looks;
You dwell in bower and hall;
You speak of me reproachfully,
And prosper on my fall.
So from this hour, in shine or shower,
We'll learn to live apart.
I ruled the earth ere you were born —