3.

TO A FRIEND,

COMPOSED NEAR

CALAIS,

On the Road leading to Ardres, August 7th, 1802.

Jones! when from Calais southward you and I
Travell❜d on foot together; then this Way,
Which I am pacing now, was like the May
With festivals of new-born Liberty:

A homeless sound of joy was in the Sky;
The antiquated Earth, as one might say,

Beat like the heart of Man: songs, garlands, play,
Banners, and happy faces, far and nigh!

And now, sole register that these things were,

Two solitary greetings have I heard,

"Good morrow, Citizen!" a hollow word,

As if a dead Man spake it!

Yet despair

I feel not: happy am I as a Bird:

Fair seasons yet will come, and hopes as fair.

4.

I griev❜d for Buonaparte, with a vain

And an unthinking grief! the vital blood

Of that Man's mind what can it be? What food
Fed his first hopes? What knowledge could He gain?

'Tis not in battles that from youth we train

The Governor who must be wise and good,

And temper with the sternness of the brain
Thoughts motherly, and meek as womanhood.

Wisdom doth live with children round her knees:
Books, leisure, perfect freedom, and the talk
Man holds with week-day man in the hourly walk
Of the mind's business: these are the degrees
By which true Sway doth mount; this is the stalk
True Power doth grow on; and her rights are these.

5.

CALAIS,

August 15th, 1802.

Festivals have I seen that were not names:
This is young Buonaparte's natal day;

And his is henceforth an established sway,
Consul for life. With worship France proclaims
Her approbation, and with pomps and games.
Heaven grant that other Cities may be gay!
Calais is not: and I have bent my way
To the Sea-coast, noting that each man frames
His business as he likes. Another time
That was, when I was here long years ago:
The senselessness of joy was then sublime!
Happy is he, who, caring not for Pope,
Consul, or King, can sound himself to know

The destiny of Man, and live in hope.

6.

ON THE EXTINCTION

OF THE

VENETIAN REPUBLIC.

Once did she hold the gorgeous East in fee;
And was the safeguard of the West: the worth
Of Venice did not fall below her birth,
Venice, the eldest Child of Liberty.

She was a Maiden City, bright and free;
No guile seduced, no force could violate;
And when She took unto herself a Mate
She must espouse the everlasting Sea.
And what if she had seen those glories fade,
Those titles vanish, and that strength decay,
Yet shall some tribute of regret be paid

When her long life hath reach'd its final day :
Men are we, and must grieve when even the Shade

Of that which once was great is pass'd away.

7.

THE KING OF SWEDEN.

The Voice of Song from distant lands shall call
To that great King; shall hail the crowned Youth
Who, taking counsel of unbending Truth,
By one example hath set forth to all

How they with dignity may stand; or fall,
If fall they must. Now, whither doth it tend?
And what to him and his shall be the end?

That thought is one which neither can appal

Nor chear him; for the illustrious Swede hath done The thing which ought to be: He stands above

All consequences: work he hath begun

Of fortitude, and piety, and love,

Which all his glorious Ancestors approve:

The Heroes bless him, him their rightful Son.