Then send the priests to every hearth and home

To preach the burning wrath which is to come, In words like flakes of sulphur, such as thaw The frozen tears

If Satire's scourge could wake the slumbering

hounds

Of Conscience, or erase the deeper wounds,
The leprous scars of callous infamy;

If it could make the present not to be,
Or charm the dark past never to have been,
Or turn regret to hope; who that has seen
What Southey is and was, would not exclaim,
Lash on!
be the keen verse dipped in

flame;

Follow his flight with winged words, and urge The strokes of the inexorable scourge

Until the heart be naked, till his soul

See the contagion's spots

foul;

And from the mirror of Truth's sunlike shield,

From which his Parthian arrow . .

Flash on his sight the spectres of the past,

Until his mind's eye paint thereon

Let scorn like

yawn below,

And rain on him like flakes of fiery snow.

This cannot be, it ought not, evil still —
Suffering makes suffering, ill must follow ill.
Rough words beget sad thoughts,

beside,

Men take a sullen and a stupid pride
In being all they hate in others' shame,
By a perverse antipathy of fame.

and,

'Tis not worth while to prove, as I could, how From the sweet fountains of our Nature flow These bitter waters; I will only say,

If any friend would take Southey some day, And tell him, in a country walk alone,

Softening harsh words with friendship's gentle

tone,

How incorrect his public conduct is,

And what men think of it, 'twere not amiss. Far better than to make innocent ink

Good Night

I.

JOOD night? ah! no; the hour is

ill

Which severs those it should

unite;

Let us remain together still,

Then it will be good night.

II.

How can I call the lone night good,

Though thy sweet wishes wing its flight? Be it not said, thought, understood Then it will be-good night.

III.

To hearts which near each other move
From evening close to morning light,
The night is good; because, my love,
They never say good night.

Buona Notte

sai,

I.

UONA notte, buona notte!"

Come mai

La notte sarà buona senza te?

Non dirmi buona notte, chè tu

La notte sà star buona da per sè.

II.

Solinga, scura, cupa, senza speme,

La notte quando Lilla m'abbandona ; Pei cuori chi si batton insieme

Ogni notte, senza dirla, sarà buona.

III.

Come male buona notte si suona
Con sospiri e parole interrotte! —

Il modo di aver la notte buona

E mai non di dir la buona notte.

And gentle odours led my steps astray,

Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay

Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling Its green arms round the bosom of the stream, But kissed it and then fled, as thou mightest

in dream.

II.

There grew pied windflowers and violets, Daisies, those pearled Arcturi of the earth,