"And thou, by one of those still lakes

That in a shining cluster lie,

On which the south wind scarcely breaks
The image of the sky,

A bower for thee and me hast made
Beneath the many-coloured shade.

"And thou dost wait and watch to meet My spirit sent to join the blessed, And, wondering what detains my feet From the bright land of rest,

Dost seem, in every sound, to hear

The rustling of my footsteps near."

ODE.

73

ODE FOR AN AGRICULTURAL CELEBRATION.

FAR back in the ages,

The plough with wreaths was crowned;

The hands of kings and sages

Entwined the chaplet round;

Till men of spoil disdained the toil

By which the world was nourished,
And dews of blood enriched the soil

Where green their laurels flourished:
-Now the world her fault repairs—

The guilt that stains her story;

And

weeps her crimes amid the cares That formed her earliest glory.

The proud throne shall crumble,
The diadem shall wane,

The tribes of earth shall humble

The pride of those who reign;
And War shall lay his pomp away ;-
The fame that heroes cherish,

G

The glory earned in deadly fray
Shall fade, decay, and perish.
Honour waits, o'er all the Earth,

Through endless generations,
The art that calls her harvests forth,
And feeds the expectant nations.