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AN INSCRIPTION

FOR STRATFIELD SAYE.

These are the groves a grateful people gave
For noblest service; and from age to age,
May they, to such as come with listening ear,
Relate the story! Sacred is their shade;
Sacred the calm they breathe-oh, how unlike
What in the field 'twas his so long to know;
Where many a mournful, many an anxious thought,
Troubling, perplexing, on his weary mind
Preyed, ere to arms the morning-trumpet called ;
Where, till the work was done and darkness fell,
Blood ran like water, and, go where thou wouldst,
Death in thy path-way met thee, face to face.

For on, regardless of himself, He went;
And, by no change elated or depressed,
Fought, till he won the imperishable wreath,
Leading the conquerors captive; on he went,
Bating nor heart nor hope, whoe'er opposed;
The greatest warriors, in their turn, appearing ;
The last that came, the greatest of them all-

One scattering fear, as born but to subdue,
And, even in rout, in ruin, scattering fear;
So long, till warred on by the elements,
Invincible; the mightiest of the earth!

When such the service, what the recompence?
What was not due to him if he survived ?
Yet, if I err not, a renown as fair,
And fairer still, awaited him at home;
When in his place, day after day, he stood,
The party-zeal, that round him raged, restraining;
-His not to rest, while his the strength to serve.

REFLECTIONS.

So eager

Man to the last is but a froward child ; for the future, come what

may, And to the present so insensible ! Oh, if he could in all things as he would, Years would as days and hours as moments be ; He would, so restless is his spirit here, Give wings to Time, and wish his life away!

ALAS, to our discomfort and his own,
Oft are the greatest talents to be found
In a fool's keeping. For what else is he,
What else is he, however worldly wise,
Who can pervert and to the worst abuse
The noblest means to serve the noblest ends;
Who can employ the gift of eloquence,
That sacred gift, to dazzle and delude;
Or, if achievement in the field be his,
Climb but to gain a loss, suffering how much,
And how much more inflicting! Every where,
Cost what they will, such cruel freaks are played ;

And hence the turmoil in this world of ours,
The turmoil never ending, still beginning,
The wailing and the tears.—When CÆSAR came,
He who could master all men but himself,
Who did so much and could so well record it;
Even he, the most applauded in his part,
Who, when he spoke, all things summed up in him,
Spoke to convince, nor ever, when he fought,
Fought but to conquer—what a life was his,
Slaying so many, to be slain at last,*
A life of trouble and incessant toil,
And all to gain what is far better missed !

Us, as

The heart, they say, is wiser than the schools;
And well they may. All that is great in thought,
That strikes at once as with electric fire,
And lifts it

were,

from earth to heaven, Comes from the heart; and who confesses not Its voice as sacred, nay almost divine, When inly it declares on what we do, Blaming, approving ? Let an erring world Judge as it will, we care not while we stand Acquitted there; and oft, when clouds on clouds Compass us round and not a track appears, Oft is an upright heart the surest guide,

* He is said to have slain a million of men in Gaul alone.

F F

Surer and better than the subtlest head;
Still with its silent counsels thro' the dark
Onward and onward leading.

This Child, so lovely and so cherub-like,
(No fairer spirit in the heaven of heavens)
Say, must he know remorse? must Passion come,
Passion in all or any of its shapes,
To cloud and sully what is now so pure?
Yes, come it must. For who, alas! has lived,
Nor in the watches of the night recalled
Words he has wished unsaid and deeds undone?
Yes, come it must. But if, as we may hope,
He learns ere long to discipline his mind,
And onward goes, humbly and cheerfully,
Assisting them that faint, weak though he be,
And in his trying hours trusting in God-
Fair as he is, he shall be fairer still;
For what was Innocence will then be Virtue.

Oh, if the selfish knew how much they lost,
What would they not endeavour, not endure,
To imitate, as far as in them lay,
Him who his wisdom and his power employs
In making others happy!

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