Fest. Not that blest time-not our youth's time,
Par. Ha-stay! true, I forget-all is done since!
And he is come to judge me: how he speaks,
How calm, how well! yes, it is true, all true;
All quackery; all deceit ! myself can laugh
The first at it, if you desire: but still
You know the obstacles which taught me tricks
So foreign to my nature-envy, and hate-
Blind opposition-brutal prejudice—
Bald ignorance-what wonder if I sunk
To humour men the way they most approved?
My cheats were never palmed on such as you,
Dear Festus! I will kneel if you require me,
Impart the meagre knowledge I possess,
Explain its bounded nature, and avow
My insufficiency-whate'er you
will:
I give the fight up! let there be an end,
A privacy, an obscure nook for me.
I want to be forgotten even by God!
But if that cannot be, dear Festus, lay me,
When I shall die, within some narrow grave,
Not by itself-for that would be too proud-
But where such graves are thickest; let it look
Nowise distinguished from the hillocks round,
So that the peasant at his brother's bed
May tread upon my own and know it not ;
And we shall all be equal at the last,
Or classed according to life's natural ranks,
Fathers, sons, brothers, friends—not rich, nor wise,
Nor gifted: lay me thus, then say, "He lived
Too much advanced before his brother men:
They kept him still in front; 'twas for their good,
But yet a dangerous station.
That he should tell God he had never ranked
With men so, here at least he is a man!"
Fest. That God shall take thee to His breast, dear spirit,
Unto His breast, be sure ! and here on earth
Shall splendour sit upon thy name for ever!
Sun! all the heaven is glad for thee: what care
If lower mountains light their snowy phares
At thine effulgence, yet acknowledge not
The source of day? Men look up to the sun!
For after-ages shall retrack thy beams,
And put aside the crowd of busy ones,
And worship thee alone—the master-mind,
The thinker, the explorer, the creator!
Then, who should sneer at the convulsive throes
With which thy deeds were born, would scorn as well
The winding sheet of subterraneous fire
Which, pent and writhing, sends no less at last
Huge islands up amid the simmering sea!
Behold thy might in me! thou hast infused
Thy soul in mine; and I am grand as thou,
Seeing I comprehend thee-I so simple,
Thou so august! I recognise thee first;
I saw thee rise, I watched thee early and late,
And though no glance reveal thou dost accept
My homage-thus no less I proffer it,
And bid thee enter gloriously thy rest!
I am for noble Aureole, God!
his side, come weal or woe!
His portion shall be mine! He has done well!
I would have sinned, had I been strong enough,
Reward! If Thou canst find no place for him,
He shall be king elsewhere, and I will be
His slave for ever! There are two of us!
Par. Dear Festus !
Here, dear Aureole! ever by you!
Par. Nay, speak on, or I dream again. Speak on! Some story, anything-only your voice.
I shall dream else. Speak on! ay, leaning so!
Fest. Softly the Mayne river glideth
Close by where my Love abideth;
Sleep's no softer: it proceeds
On through lawns, on through meads,
On and on, whate'er befall,
Meandering and musical,
Though the niggard pasture's edge
Bears not on its shaven ledge
Aught but weeds and waving grasses
To view the river as it passes,
Save here and there a scanty patch
Of primroses, too faint to catch
Its gentle way through strangling rushes,
Where the glossy kingfisher
Flutters when noon-heats are near,
Glad the shelving banks to shun,
Red and steaming in the sun,
Where the shrew-mouse with pale throat
Burrows, and the speckled stoat;
Where the quick sand-pipers flit
In and out the marl and grit
That seems to breed them, brown as they.
Nought disturbs the river's way,
Save some lazy stork that springs,
Trailing it with legs and wings,
Whom the shy fox from the hill
Rouses, creep he ne'er so still.
Par. My heart! they loose my heart, those simple words;
Its darkness passes, which nought else could touch;
Like some dark snake that force may not expel,
But glideth out to music sweet and low.
LESSON OF THE LIFE OF PARACELSUS.
Par. I failed: I gazed on power till I grew blind-
On power; I could not take my eyes from that-
That only, I thought, should be preserved, increased
At any risk, displayed, struck out at once-
The sign, and note, and character of man.
I saw no use in the Past: only a scene
Of degradation, imbecility—
The record of disgraces best forgotten,
A sullen page in human chronicles
Fit to erase: I saw no cause why man
Should not be all-sufficient even now;
Or why his annals should be forced to tell
That once the tide of light, about to break
Upon the world, was sealed within its spring;
I would have had one day, one moment's space,
Change man's condition, push each slumbering claim
To mastery o'er the elemental world
At once to full maturity, then roll
Oblivion o'er the tools, and hide from man
What night had ushered morn. Not so, dear child
Of after-days, wilt thou reject the Past,
Big with deep warnings of the proper tenure
By which thou hast the earth: the Present for thee
Shall have distinct and trembling beauty, seen
Beside that Past's own shade, whence, in relief,
Its brightness shall stand out: nor on thee yet
Shall burst the Future, as successive zones
Of several wonder open on some spirit
Flying secure and glad from heaven to heaven;
But thou shalt painfully attain to joy,
While hope, and fear, and love, shall keep thee man!
All this was hid from me: as one by one
My dreams grew dim, my wide aims circumscribed,
As actual good within my reach decreased,
While obstacles sprung up this way and that,
To keep me from effecting half the sum,
Small as it proved; as objects, mean within
The primal aggregate, seemed, even the least,
İtself a match for my concentred strength-
What wonder if I saw no way to shun
Despair? The power I sought for man, seemed God's!
In this conjuncture, as I prayed to die,
A strange adventure made me know, One Sin
Had spotted my career from its uprise;
I saw Aprile-my Aprile there!
And as the poor melodious wretch disburthened
His heart, and moaned his weakness in my ear,
I learned my own deep error; love's undoing
Taught me the worth of love in man's estate,
And what proportion love should hold with power
In his right constitution; love preceding
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