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III.

Stooped to the Victory, on that Belgic field, The peaceful guest advancing from afar.
Achieved, this closing deed magnificent,

Bright be the peaceful Fabric, as a star
And with the embrace was satisfied.

Fresh risen, and beautiful within !- there meet -Fly, ministers of Fame,

Dependence infinite, proportion just;
With every help that ye from earth and heaven A Pile that Grace approves, and Time can trust

With his most sacred wealth, heroic dust.
Bear through the world these tidings of delight!
-Hours, Days, and Months, have borne them in
the sight

But if the valiant of this land
Of mortals, hurrying like a sudden shower In reverential modesty demand,

That land-ward stretches from the sea, That all observance, due to them, be paid

The morning's splendours to devour ; Where their serene progenitors are laid ; But this swift travel scorns the company

Kings, warriors, high-souled poets, saint-like sages, Of irksome change, or threats from saddening England's illustrious sons of long, long ages; power.

Be it not unordained that solemn rites, -The shock is giventhe Adversaries bleed Within the circuit of those Gothic walls, Lo, Justice triumphs! Earth is freed !

Shall be performed at pregnant intervals ; Joyful annunciation !-it went forth

Commemoration holy that unites It pierced the caverns of the sluggish North

The living generations with the dead; It found no barrier on the ridge

By the deep soul-moving sense Of Andesfrozen gulphs became its bridge

Of religious eloquence, The vast Pacific gladdens with the freight

By visual pomp, and by the tie Upon the Lakes of Asia 'tis bestowed

Of sweet and threatening harmony;
The Arabian desart shapes a willing road

Soft notes, awful as the omen
Across her burning breast,

Of destructive tempests coming,
For this refreshing incense from the West !-

And escaping from that sadness
-Where snakes and lions breed,

Into elevated gladness;
Where towns and cities thick as stars appear,

While the white-rob’d choir attendant, Wherever fruits are gathered, and where'er

Under mouldering banners pendant, The upturned soil receives the hopeful seed- Provoke all potent symphonies to raise While the Sun rules, and cross the shades of night

Songs of victory and praise, The unwearied arrow hath pursued its flight ! For them who bravely stood unhurt, or bled The eyes of good men thankfully give heed, With medicable wounds, or found their graves And in its sparkling progress read

Upon the battle field, or under ocean’s waves ; Of virtue crowned with glory's deathless meed : Or were conducted home in single state, Tyrants exult to hear of kingdoms won,

And long procession—there to lie, And slaves are pleased to learn that mighty feats Where their sons' sons, and all posterity, are done;

Unheard by them, their deeds shall celebrate ! Even the proud Realm, from whose distracted

borders This messenger of good was launched in air,

Nor will the God of peace and love France, humbled France, amid her wild disorders, Such martial service disapprove. Feels, and hereafter shall the truth declare,

He guides the Pestilence—the cloud That she too lacks not reason to rejoice,

Of locusts travels on his breath ; And utter England's name with sadly-plausive voice. The region that in hope was ploughed

His drought consumes, his mildew taints with death;

He springs the hushed Volcano's mine,

He puts the Earthquake on her still design, O genuine glory, pure renown!

Darkens the sun, hath bade the forest sink, And well might it beseem that mighty Town And, drinking towns and cities, still can drink Into whose bosom earth's best treasures flow, Cities and towns—’tis Thou—the work is Thine ! To whom all persecuted men retreat ;

The fierce Tornado sleeps within thy courtsIf a new Temple lift her votive brow

He hears the word-he fliesHigh on the shore of silver Thames—to greet

And navies perish in their ports;

IV.

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V.

II.

For Thou art angry with thine enemies !

As aptly suits therewith that modest pace
For these, and mourning for our errors,

Submitted to the chains
And sins, that point their terrors,

That bind thee to the path which God ordains We bow our heads before Thee, and we laud

That thou shalt trace,
And magnify thy name, Almighty God!

Till, with the heavens and earth, thou pass away!
But Man is thy most awful instrument, Nor less, the stillness of these frosty plains,
In working out a pure intent;

Their utter stillness, and the silent grace
Thou cloth’st the wicked in their dazzling mail, Of yon ethereal summits white with snow,
And for thy righteous purpose they prevail ; (Whose tranquil pomp and spotless purity
Thine arm from peril guards the coasts

Report of storms gone by
Of them who in thy laws delight:

To us who tread below)
Thy presence turns the scale of doubtful fight, Do with the service of this Day accord.
Tremendous God of battles, Lord of Hosts ! -Divinest Object which the uplifted eye

Of mortal man is suffered to behold;

Thou, who upon yon snow-clad Heights has poured Forbear :-to Thee

Meek lustre, nor forget'st the humble Vale; Father and Judge of all, with fervent tongue

Thou who dost warm Earth's universal mould, But in a gentler strain

And for thy bounty wert not unadored Of contemplation, by no sense of wrong,

By pious men of old; (Too quick and keen) incited to disdain

Once more, heart-cheering Sun, I bid thee hail ! Of pity pleading from the heart in vain

Bright be thy course to-day, let not this promise fail ! To TAEE-To THEE Just God of christianised Humanity Shall praises be poured forth, and thanks ascend, 'Mid the deep quiet of this morning hour, That thou hast brought our warfare to an end, All nature seems to hear me while I speak, And that we need no second victory!

By feelings urged that do not vainly seek Blest, above measure blest,

Apt language, ready as the tuneful notes If on thy love our Land her hopes shall rest, That stream in blithe succession from the throats And all the Nations labour to fulfil

Of birds, in leafy bower,
Thy law, and live henceforth in peace, in pure Warbling a farewell to a vernal shower.
good will.

- There is a radiant though a short-lived flame,
That burns for Poets in the dawning east ;
And oft my soul hath kindled at the same,
When the captivity of sleep had ceased ;
But He who fixed immoveably the frame

Of the round world, and built, by laws as strong,
ODE.

A solid refuge for distress

The towers of righteousness ;
THE MORNING OF THE DAY APPOINTED FOR A GENERAL
JANUARY 18, 1816.

He knows that from a holier altar came

The quickening spark of this day's sacrifice; Hail, orient Conqueror of gloomy Night!

Knows that the source is nobler whence doth rise Thou that canst shed the bliss of gratitude

The current of this matin song ; On hearts howe'er insensible or rude;

That deeper far it lies Whether thy punctual visitations smite

Than aught dependent on the fickle skies. The haughty towers where monarchs dwell; Or thou, impartial Sun, with presence bright Cheer'st the low threshold of the peasant's cell ! Have we not conquered by the vengeful sword ? Not unrejoiced I see thee climb the sky

Ah no, by dint of Magnanimity; In naked splendour, clear from mist or haze, That curbed the baser passions, and left free Or cloud approaching to divert the rays,

A loyal band to follow their liege Lord Which even in deepest winter testify

Clear-sighted Honour, and his staid Compeers, Thy power and majesty,

Along a track of most unnatural years; Dazzling the vision that presumes to gaze.

In execution of heroic deeds -Well does thine aspect usher in this Day ; Whose memory, spotless as the crystal beads

XLVI.

THANKSGIVING.

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111.

VI.

Of morning dew upon the untrodden meads,
Shall live enrolled above the starry spheres.
He, who in concert with an earthly string

Of Britain's acts would sing,

He with enraptured voice will tell Of One whose spirit no reverse could quell ; Of One that mid the failing never failed— Who paints how Britain struggled and prevailed Shall represent her labouring with an eye

Of circumspect humanity;
Shall show her clothed with strength and skill,

All martial duties to fulfil ;
Firm as a rock in stationary fight;
In motion rapid as the lightning's gleam ;
Fierce as a flood-gate bursting at mid night
To rouse the wicked from their giddy dream-
Woe, woe to all that face her in the field !
Appalled she may not be, and cannot yield.

A crouching purpose-a distracted will— Opposed to hopes that battened upon scorn, And to desires whose ever-waxing horn Not all the light of earthly power could fill; Opposed to dark, deep plots of patient skill, And to celerities of lawless force; Which, spurning God, had flung away remorseWhat could they gain but shadows of redress? -So bad proceeded propagating worse ; And discipline was passion's dire excess. Widens the fatal web, its lines extend, And deadlier poisons in the chalice blend. When will your trials teach you to be wise ? - prostrate Lands, consult your agonies !

VII.

IV.

And thus is missed the sole true glory
That can belong to human story!
At which they only shall arrive

Who through the abyss of weakness dive.
The very humblest are too proud of heart;
And one brief day is rightly set apart
For Him who lifteth up and layeth low;
For that Almighty God to whom we owe,
Say not that we have vanquished—but that we

survive.

No more--the guilt is banish’d, And, with the guilt, the shame is fled; And, with the guilt and shame, the Woe hath

vanishid, Shaking the dust and ashes from her head ! -No more--these lingerings of distress Sully the limpid stream of thankfulness. What robe can Gratitude employ So seemly as the radiant vest of Joy? What steps so suitable as those that move In prompt obedience to spontaneous measures Of glory, and felicity, and love, Surrendering the whole heart to sacred pleasures?

v.

VIII.

How dreadful the dominion of the impure !
Why should the Song be tardy to proclaim
That less than power unbounded could not tame
That soul of Evil--which, from hell let loose,
Had filled the astonished world with such abuse
As boundless patience only could endure ?
-Wide-wasted regions-cities wrapt in flame-
Who sees, may lift a streaming eye
To Heaven ;-who never saw, may heave a sigh ;
But the foundation of our nature shakes,
And with an infinite pain the spirit aches,
When desolated countries, towns on fire,

Are but the avowed attire
Of warfare waged with desperate mind
Against the life of virtue in mankind;

Assaulting without ruth

The citadels of truth;
While the fair gardens of civility,

By ignorance defaced,

By violence laid waste,
Perish without reprieve for flower or tree!

O Britain ! dearer far than life is dear,

If one there be

Of all thy progeny
Who can forget thy prowess, never more
Be that ungrateful Son allowed to hear
Thy green leaves rustle or thy torrents roar.
As springs the lion from his den,

As from a forest-brake

Upstarts a glistering snake,
The bold Arch-despot re-appeared ;-again
Wide Europe heaves, impatient to be cast,

With all her armed Powers,
On that offensive soil, like waves upon a

thousand shores.
The trumpet blew a universal blast !
But Thou art foremost in the field :- there stand:
Receive the triumph destined to thy hand !
All States have glorified themselves ;-their claims
Are weighed by Providence, in balance even;

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Preserve, O Lord ! within our hearts
The memory of thy favour,
That else insensibly departs,

And loses its sweet savour !
Lodge it within us !-as the power of light
Lives inexhaustibly in precious gems,
Fixed on the front of Eastern diadems,
So shine our thankfulness for ever bright !
What offering, what transcendent monument
Shall our sincerity to Thee present ?
-Not work of hands; but trophies that may

reach
To highest Heaven—the labour of the Soul ;
That builds, as thy unerring precepts teach,
Upon the internal conquests made by each,
Her hope of lasting glory for the whole.
Yet will not heaven disown nor earth gainsay
The outward service of this day ;
Whether the worshippers entreat
Forgiveness from God's mercy-seat;
Or thanks and praises to His throne ascend
That He has brought our warfare to an end,
And that we need no second victory !
Ha ! what a ghastly sight for man to see ;
And to the heavenly saints in peace who dwell,

For a brief moment, terrible;
But, to thy sovereign penetration, fair,
Before whom all things are, that were,
All judgments that have been, or e'er shall be ;
Links in the chain of thy tranquillity !
Along the bosom of this favoured Nation,
Breathe Thou, this day, a vital undulation !

Let all who do this land inherit

Be conscious of thy moving spirit ! Oh, ʼtis a goodly Ordinance,--the sight, Though sprung from bleeding war, is one of pure

delight; Bless Thou the hour, or ere the hour arrive, When a whole people shall kneel down in prayer, And, at one moment, in one rapture, strive With lip and heart to tell their gratitude

For thy protecting care,

But hark—the summons !_down the placid lake Floats the soft cadence of the church-tower bells; Bright shines the Sun, as if his beams would wake The tender insects sleeping in their cells; Bright shines the Sun—and not a breeze to shake The drops that tip the melting icicles.

0, enter now his temple gate! Inviting words--perchance already flung (As the crowd press devoutly down the aisle Of some old Minster's venerable pile) From voices into zealous passion stung, While the tubed engine feels the inspiring blast, And has begun—its clouds of sound to cast

Forth towards empyreal Heaven,

As if the fretted roof were riven.
Us, humbler ceremonies now await ;
But in the bosom, with devout respect
The banner of our joy we will erect,
And strength of love our souls shall elevate :
For to a few collected in his name,
Their heavenly Father will incline an ear
Gracious to service hallowed by its aim ;
Awake! the majesty of God revere !

Go—and with foreheads meekly bowed
Present your prayers-go—and rejoice aloud-

The Holy One will hear !
And what, ʼmid silence deep, with faith sincere,
Ye, in your low and undisturbed estate,
Shall simply feel and purely meditate-
Of warnings from the unprecedented might,
Which, in our time, the impious have disclosed;
And of more arduous duties thence imposed
Upon the future advocates of right;

Of mysteries revealed,
And judgments unrepealed,
Of earthly revolution,

And final retribution-
To his omniscience will appear
An offering not unworthy to find place,
On this high Day of Thanks, before the Throne

of Grace !

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BRUGÈS.

'Tis said, fantastic ocean doth enfold
The likeness of whate'er on land is seen ;
But, if the Nereid Sisters and their Queen,
Above whose heads the tide so long hath rolled,
The Dames resemble whom we here behold,
How fearful were it down through opening waves
To sink, and meet them in their fretted caves,
Withered, grotesque, immeasurably old,
And shrill and fierce in accent !-Fear it not:
For they Earth's fairest daughters do excel ;
Pure undecaying beauty is their lot ;
Their voices into liquid music swell,
Thrilling each pearly cleft and sparry grot,
The undisturbed abodes where Sea-nymphs dwell !

The Spirit of Antiquity—enshrined
In sumptuous buildings, vocal in sweet song,
In picture, speaking with heroic tongue,
And with devout solemnities entwined-
Mounts to the seat of grace within the mind :
Hence Forms that glide with swan-like ease along,
Hence motions, even amid the vulgar throng,
To an harmonious decency confined :
As if the streets were consecrated ground,
The city one vast temple, dedicate
To mutual respect in thought and deed ;
To leisure, to forbearances sedate ;
To social cares from jarring passions freed ;
A deeper peace than that in deserts found !

II.

IV.

INCIDENT AT BRUGÈS.

BRUGÈS. BRUGÈs I saw attired with golden light (Streamed from the west) as with a robe of power: The splendour fled ; and now the sunless hour, That, slowly making way for peaceful night, Best suits with fallen grandeur, to my sight Offers the beauty, the magnificence, And sober graces, left her for defence Against the injuries of time, the spite Of fortune, and the desolating storms Of future war. Advance not-spare to hide, O gentle Power of darkness ! these mild hues ; Obscure not yet these silent avenues Of stateliest architecture, where the Forms Of nun-like females, with soft motion, glide !

In Bruges town is many a street

Whence busy life hath fled ; Where, without hurry, noiseless feet,

The grass-grown pavement tread. There heard we, halting in the shade

Flung from a Convent-tower,
A harp that tuneful prelude made

To a voice of thrilling power.

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