Broider the ground," and every mountain-pine
Elsewhere unseen (his birth-place in the clouds,
His kindred sweeping with majestic march
From cliff to cliff along the snowy ridge
Of Caucasus, or nearer yet the Moon)

Breathes heavenly music.-Yet much more I owe
For what so few, alas, can hope to share,
Thy converse; when, among thy books reclined,
Or in thy garden-chair that wheels its course
Slowly and silently thro' sun and shade,
Thou speak'st, as ever thou art wont to do,
In the calm temper of philosophy;

-Still to delight, instruct, whate'er the theme.

WRITTEN AT STRATHFIELD 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;

* How strange, said He to me, are the impressions that sometimes follow a battle! After the battle of Assaye I slept in a farm-house, and so great had been the slaughter that whenever I awoke, which I did continually through the night, it struck me that I had lost all my friends, nor could I bring myself to think otherwise till morning came, and one by one I saw those that were living.

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 hosts as born but to subdue,
And even in bondage withering hearts with fear.
When such the service, what the recompense?
Yet, and I err not, a renown as fair,
And fairer still, awaited him at home;
Where to the last, day after day, he stood,
The party-zeal, that round him raged, restraining;
-His not to rest, while his the strength to serve.*

*

*On Friday, the 19th of November, 1830, there was an assembly at Bridgewater-House, a House which has long ceased to be, and of which no stone is now resting on another. It was there that I saw a Lady whose beauty was the least of her attractions, and she said, "I never see you now."-"When may I come?"-"Come on Sunday at Five."-" At Five then you shall see me,"-"Remember Five."-And through the evening, wherever I went, a voice followed me, repeating in a tone of mock solemnity, "Remember Five!"-It was the voice of One who had overheard us; and little did he think what was to take place at Five.

On Sunday when the time drew near, it struck me as I was leaving Lord Holland's, in Burlington Street, that I had some engagement, so little had I thought of it, and I repaired to the House, No. 4, in Carlton Gardens. There were the Duke of Wellington's horses at the door, and I said, "The Duke is here." But you are expected, Sir."-I went in and found him sitting with the Lady of the House, the Lady who had made the appointment, nor was it long before he spoke as follows:

WRITTEN IN JULY, 1834.

1

GREY, thou hast served, and well, the sacred Cause
That Hampden, Sydney died for. Thou hast stood,
Scorning all thought of Self, from first to last,
Among the foremost in that glorious field;
From first to last; and, ardent as thou art,
Held on with equal step as best became
A lofty mind, loftiest when most assailed;
Never, though galled by many a barbed shaft,
By many a bitter taunt from friend and foe,
Swerving or shrinking. Happy in thy Youth,
Thy Youth the dawn of a long summer-day;
But in thy Age still happier; thine to earn
The gratitude of millions yet unborn ;
Thine to conduct, through ways how difficult,
A mighty people in their march sublime
From Good to Better. Great thy recompense,
When in their eyes thou read'st what thou hast done;

"They want me to place myself at the head of a Faction, but I tell them that I never will.

"To-morrow I shall give up my Office and go down into my County to restore order there, if I can restore it. When I return, I shall take my place in Parliament-to approve when I can approve; and, when I cannot, to say so. I have now served my Country forty years-twenty in the field and ten, if not more, in the Cabinet; nor, while I live, shall I be found wanting, wherever I may be. But never, no never, will I place myself at the head of a Faction.'

Having met Lord Grey who was to succeed him in his office, again and again under my roof, and knowing our intimacy, he meant that these words should be repeated to him; and so they were, word for word, on that very night.

"To the last," said Lord Grey, "He fulfilled his promise."

And may'st thou long enjoy it; may'st thou long
Preserve for them what still they claim as theirs,
That generous fervour and pure eloquence,
Thine from thy birth and Nature's noblest gifts,
To guard what They have gained !

WRITTEN IN 1834.

WELL, when her day is over, be it said
That, though a speck on the terrestrial globe,
Found with long search and in a moment lost,
She made herself a name-a name to live
While science, eloquence, and song divine,
And wisdom, in self-government displayed,
And valour, such as only in the Free,
Shall among men be honoured.

Every sea

Was covered with her sails; in every port
Her language spoken; and, where'er you went,
Exploring, to the east or to the west,

Even to the rising or the setting day,

Her arts and laws and institutes were there,
Moving with silent and majestic march,
Onward and onward, where no pathway was;
There her adventurous sons, like those of old,
Founding vast empires *-empires in their turn

*North America speaks for itself; and so indeed may we say of India when such a territory is ours in a region so remote; when a company of merchants, from such small beginnings, have established a dominion so absolute-a dominion over a people for ages civilized and cultivated, while we were yet in the woods.

P

Destined to shine thro' many a distant age

With sun-like splendour.

Wondrous was her wealth,

The world itself her willing tributary;

Yet, to accomplish what her soul desired,
All was as nothing; and the mightiest kings,
Each in his hour of strife exhausted, fallen,
Drew strength from Her, their coffers from her own
Filled to o'erflowing. When her fleets of war
Had swept the main-had swept it and were gone,
Gone from the eyes and from the minds of men,
Their dreadful errands so entirely done-
Up rose her armies; on the land they stood,
Fearless, erect; and in an instant smote
Him with his legions.*

Yet ere long 'twas hers,

Great as her triumphs, to eclipse them all,

To do what none had done, none had conceived,

An act how glorious, making joy in Heaven;

When, such her prodigality, condemned

To toil and toil, alas, how hopelessly,
Herself in bonds, for ages unredeemed—
As with a god-like energy she sprung,
All else forgot, and, burdened as she was,
Ransomed the African.+

Alluding to the battle of Waterloo. The illustrious Man who commanded there on our side, and who, in his anxiety to do justice to others, never fails to forget himself, said to me many years afterwards with some agitation, when relating an occurrence of that day, "It was a battle of giants! a battle of giants!"

Parliament had only to register the edict of the People.CHANNING.