Thy clouds, thy quiet dales, thy rocks and seas,
Have drunk in all my intellectual life,
All sweet sensations, all ennobling thoughts,
All adoration of the God in nature,
All lovely and all honourable things,
Whatever makes this mortal spirit feel
The joy and greatness of its future being?
There lives nor form nor feeling in my soul
Unborrowed from my country. O divine
And beauteous island! thou hast been my sole
And most magnificent temple, in the which
I walk with awe, and sing my stately songs,
Loving the God that made me!

May my fears,

My filial fears, be vain! and may the vaunts
And menace of the vengeful enemy

Pass like the gust, that roared and died away
In the distant tree: which heard, and only heard
In this low dell, bowed not the delicate grass.

But now the gentle dew-fall sends abroad The fruit-like perfume of the golden fürze : The light has left the summit of the hill, Though still a sunny gleam lies beautiful, Aslant the ivied beacon. Now farewell, Farewell, awhile, O soft and silent spot! On the green sheep-track, up the heathy hill, Homeward I wind my way; and lo! recalled From bodings that have well nigh wearied me,

I find myself upon the brow, and
pause
Startled! And after lonely sojourning

In such a quiet and surrounded nook,
This burst of prospect, here the shadowy main,
Dim tinted, there the mighty majesty

Of that huge amphitheatre of rich
And elmy fields, seems like society-
Conversing with the mind, and giving it
A livelier impulse and a dance of thought!
And now,
beloved Stowey! I behold

Thy church-tower, and, methinks, the four huge elms
Clustering, which mark the mansion of my friend;
And close behind them, hidden from my view,
Is my own lowly cottage, where my babe
And my babe's mother dwell in peace! With light
And quickened footsteps thitherward I tend,
Remembering thee, O green and silent dell!
And grateful, that by nature's quietness
And solitary musings, all my heart

Is softened, and made worthy to indulge

Love, and the thoughts that yearn for human kind.

Nether Stowey,
April 28th, 1798.

FIRE, FAMINE, and slauGHTER.

A WAR ECLOGUE. WITH AN APOLOGETIC PREFACE.'

The Scene a desolated Tract in la Vendée. FAMINE is discovered lying on the ground;

to her enter FIRE and SLAUGHTER.

Fam. SISTERS! sisters! who sent you here?
Slau. [to Fire]. I will whisper it in her ear.
Fire. No! no! no!

Spirits hear what spirits tell:

'Twill make a holiday in hell.
No no! no!

Myself, I named him once below,
And all the souls, that damned be,
Leaped up at once in anarchy,

Clapped their hands and danced for glee.

They no longer heeded me;

But laughed to hear hell's burning rafters
Unwillingly re-echo laughters!

No! no! no!

Spirits hear what spirits tell!
"Twill make a holiday in hell!

Fam. Whisper it, sister! so and so!

In a dark hint, soft and slow.

1 See Appendix.

Slau. Letters four do form his name

And who sent you?

Both.

The same! the same!

Slau. He came by stealth, and unlocked my den, And I have drunk the blood since then

Of thrice three hundred thousand men
Both. Who bade you do it?

Slau.

The same! the same!

Letters four do form his name.

He let me loose, and cried halloo !

To him alone the praise is due.

Fam. Thanks, sister, thanks! the men have bled,
Their wives and their children faint for bread.
I stood in a swampy field of battle;
With bones and skulls I made a rattle,

To frighten the wolf and carrion-crow
And the homeless dog-but they would not go.
So off I flew: for how could I bear
To see them gorge their dainty fare?
I heard a groan and a peevish squall,
And through the chink of a cottage-wall-
Can you guess what I saw there?

Both. Whisper it, sister! in our ear.

Fam. A baby beat its dying mother:

I had starved the one and was starving the other! Both. Who bade you do't?

Fam.

The same! the same!

Letters four do form his name.

He let me loose, and cried, halloo !

To him alone the praise is due.

Fire. Sisters! I from Ireland came!
Hedge and corn-fields all on flame,
I triumphed o'er the setting sun!
And all the while the work was done,
On as I strode with my huge strides,
I flung back my head and I held my sides,
It was so rare a piece of fun

To see the sweltered cattle run

With uncouth gallop through the night,
Scared by the red and noisy light!
By the light of his own blazing cot
Was many a naked rebel shot:

The house-stream met the flame and hissed,
While crash! fell in the roof, I wist,
On some of those old bed-rid nurses,
That deal in discontent and curses.
Both. Who bade you do't?
Fire.

The same! the same!

Letters four do form his name.
He let me loose, and cried halloo !
To him alone the praise is due.

All. He let us loose, and cried halloo!
How shall we yield him honour due?
Fam. Wisdom comes with lack of food.

I'll gnaw, I'll gnaw the multitude,

Till the cup of rage o'erbrim:

They shall seize him and his brood-

Slau. They shall tear him limb from limb!

Fire. O thankless beldames and untrue!