There once the steel-clad knight reclin'd, His sable plumage tempest-toss'd; And, as the death-bell smote the wind, From towers long fled by human kind, Himself the hero cross'd! Then Culture came, and days serene; And village-sports, and garlands gay. Full many a pathway cross'd the green; And maids and shepherd-youths were seen To celebrate the May. Father of many a forest deep! Whence many a navy thunder-fraught; Erst in their acorn-cells asleep, Soon destin'd o'er the world to sweep, Opening new spheres of thought. Wont in the night of woods to dwell, The holy druid saw thee rise; And, planting there the guardian-spell, Sung forth, the dreadful pomp to swell Of human sacrifice! Thy singed top and branches bare Now straggle in the evening sky; And the wan moon wheels round to glare On the long corse that shivers there Of him who came to die! FRAGMENTS FROM EURIPIDES. DEAR is that valley to the murmuring bees. The small birds build there; and, at summer-noon, Oft have I heard a child, gay among flowers, As in the shining grass she sat conceal'd, Sing to herself, There is a streamlet issuing from a rock. The village-girls, singing sweet madrigals, Dip their white vestments in its waters clear, And hang them to the sun. There first I saw her. |