"SWEET is the holiness of Youth"-so felt

Time-honored Chaucer speaking through that Lay

By which the Prioress beguiled the way, And many a Pilgrim's rugged heart did melt.

Hadst thou, loved Bard! whose spirit often dwelt

In the clear land of vision, but foreseen King, child, and seraph, blended in the mien

Of pious Edward kneeling as he knelt
In meek and simple infancy, what joy
For universal Christendom had thrilled
Thy heart! what hopes inspired thy genius,
skilled

(O great Precursor, genuine morning Star) The lucid shafts of reason to employ, Piercing the Papal darkness from afar !

XXXII.

EDWARD SIGNING THE WARRANT FOR THE EXECUTION OF JOAN OF KENT. THE tears of man in various measure gush From various sources; gently overflow From blissful transport some-from clefts of woe

GENERAL VIEW OF THE TROUBLES OF THE REFORMATION.

AID, glorious Martyrs, from your fields of light,

Our niortal ken! Inspire a perfect trust (While we look round) that Heaven's decrees are just;

Which few can hold committed to a fight That shows, ev'n on its better side, the might

Of proud Self-will, Rapacity, and Lust, 'Mid clouds enveloped of polemic dust, Which showers of blood seem rather to incite

Than to allay. Anathemas are hurled From both sides; veteran thunders (the

brute test

Were mine the trusty staff that JEWELL gave

To youthful HOOKER, in familiar style
The gift exalting, and with playful smile:
For thus equipped, and bearing on his head
The Donor's farewell blessing, can he dread
Tempest, or length of way, or weight of
toil?-

More sweet than odors caught by him who sails

Near spicy shores of Araby the blest,
A thousand times more exquisitely sweet,
The freight of holy feeling which we meet,
In thoughtful moments, wafted by the gales
From fields where good men walk, or
bowers wherein they rest.

XLIII.

ILLUSTRATION.

XLIV.

TROUBLES OF CHARLES THE FIRST.

EVEN Such the contrast that, where'er we move,

To the mind's eye Religion doth present; Now with her own deep quietness content; Then, like the mountain, thundering froni above

Against the ancient pine-trees of the grove And the Land s humblest comforts. Now

her mood

Recalls the transformation of the flood,
Whose rage the gentle skies in vain reprove,
Earth cannot check. O terrible excess
Of headstrong will! Can this be Piety?
No-some fierce Maniac hath usurped her

name,

And scourges England struggling to be free:

Her peace destroyed! her hopes a wilderness!

Her blessings cursed-her glory turned to shanie.

XLV. LAUD.

PREJUDGED by foes determined not to

spare,

RHINE NEAR SCHAFFHAUSEN.

THE Virgin Mountain,* wearing like a
Queen

A brilliant crown of everlasting snow,
Sheds ruin from her sides; and men below
Wonder that aught of aspect so serene
Can link with desolation. Smooth and
green,

And seeming, at a little distance, slow,
The waters of the Rhine; but on they go
Fretting and whitening, keener and more
keen;

Till madness seizes on the whole wide
Flood,

Turned to a fearful Thing whose nostrils breathe

Blasts of tempestuous smoke-wherewith

he tries

To hide himself, but only magnifies; And doth in more conspicuous torment writhe, Deafening the region in his ireful mood. • The Jung-frau.

Whose heart still flutters, though his wings forbear

To stir in useless struggle) hath relied
On hope that conscious innocence supplied,
And in his prison breathes celestial air.
Why tarries then thy chariot? Wherefore
stay,

O Death! the ensanguined yet triumphant wheels,

Which thou prepar'st, full often, to convey (What time a State with madding faction reels)

The Saint or Patriot to the world that heals All wounds, all perturbations doth allay?

XLVI.

AFFLICTIONS OF ENGLAND.

HARP! could'st thou venture, on thy boldest string,

The faintest note to echo which the blast Caught from the hand of Moses as it pass'd O'er Sinai's top, or from the Shepherd-king, Early awake, by Siloa's brook, to sing