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From a remoter station

For the high prize lost on Philippi's shore:
As then Hope, Truth, and Justice did avail,
So now may Fraud and Wrong! O hail!

EPODE I. B

Hear ye the march as of the Earth-born Forms
Arrayed against the ever-living Gods?
The crash and darkness of a thousand storms
Bursting their inaccessible abodes

See

Of crags and thunder-clouds?

ye the banners blazoned to the day, Inwrought with emblems of barbaric pride? Dissonant threats kill Silence far away,

The serene Heaven which wraps our Eden wide

With iron light is dyed,

The Anarchs of the North lead forth their

legions

Like Chaos o'er creation, uncreating ;

An hundred tribes nourished on strange relig

ions

And lawless slaveries, - down the aërial regions

Of the white Alps, desolating,

Famished wolves that bide no waiting, Blotting the glowing footsteps of old glory, Trampling our columned cities into dust, Their dull and savage lust

On Beauty's corse to sickness satiating — They come! The fields they tread look black

and hoary

With fire-from their red feet the streams

run gory!

EPODE II. B

Great Spirit, deepest Love!

Which rulest and dost move

All things which live and are, within the Italian

shore;

Who spreadest heaven around it,

Whose woods, rocks, waves, surround

it;

Who sittest in thy star, o'er Ocean's western

floor,

Spirit of beauty! at whose soft command

The sunbeams and the showers distil its

foison

From the Earth's bosom chill;

O bid those beams be each a blinding brand Of lightning! bid those showers be dews of poison

Bid the Earth's plenty kill!

Bid thy bright Heaven above,

Whilst light and darkness bound it,
Be their tomb who planned

To make it ours and thine!

Or, with thine harmonizing ardours fill
And raise thy sons, as o'er the prone horizon
Thy lamp feeds every twilight wave with fire-
Be man's high hope and unextinct desire,
The instrument to work thy will divine!
Then clouds from sunbeams, antelopes from
leopards,

And frowns and fears from Thee,
Would not more swiftly flee

Than Celtic wolves from the Ausonian shep

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Whatever, Spirit, from thy starry shrine

Thou yieldest or withholdest, Oh, let be
This city of thy worship ever free!

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A

An Allegory

I.

PORTAL as of shadowy adamant Stands yawning on the highway of the life

Which we all tread, a cavern huge

and gaunt;

Around it rages an unceasing strife

Of shadows, like the restless clouds that haunt The gap of some cleft mountain, lifted high

Into the whirlwinds of the upper sky.

And many pass

II.

it by with careless tread,

Not knowing that a shadowy .

Tracks every traveller even to where the dead

Wait peacefully for their companion new;

But others, by more curious humour led,
Pause to examine, these are very few,

And they learn little there, except to know That shadows follow them where'er they go.

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Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,

Are heaped for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

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