And now, ascending, after one dark hour
And one night's diminution of her power,
Behold the mighty Moon! this way

She looks as if at them but they

Regard not her : — oh better wrong and strife, (By nature transient) than such torpid life; Life which the very stars reprove

As on their silent tasks they move!

Yet, witness all that stirs in heaven or earth!

In scorn I speak not ;

they are what their birth

And breeding suffers them to be;

Wild outcasts of society!

XXII.

BEGGAR S.

BEFORE me as the Wanderer stood,

No bonnet screened her from the heat;
Nor claimed she service from the hood
Of a blue mantle, to her feet

Depending with a graceful flow;

Only she wore a cap pure as unsullied snow.

Her skin was of Egyptian brown;
Haughty as if her eye had seen

Its own light to a distance thrown,

She towered fit

person

for a Queen,

To head those ancient Amazonian files;

Or ruling Bandit's wife among the Grecian Isles.

Her suit

no faltering scruples checked;

Forth did she pour, in current free,

Tales that could challenge no respect

But from a blind credulity;

And yet a boon I gave her; for the Creature

Was beautiful to see a weed of glorious feature!

I left her, and pursued my way;
And soon before me did espy

A pair of little Boys at play,

Chasing a crimson butterfly;

The Taller followed with his hat in hand,

Wreathed round with yellow flowers the gayest of the land.

The Other wore a rimless crown

With leaves of laurel stuck about;

And, while both followed up and down,
Each whooping with a merry shout,

In their fraternal features I could trace

Unquestionable lines of that wild Suppliant's face.

Yet they, so blithe of heart, seemed fit

For finest tasks of earth or air:

Wings let them have, and they might flit

Precursors of Aurora's Car,

Scattering fresh flowers; though happier far, I ween,

To hunt their fluttering game o'er rock and level green.

Each ready with a plaintive whine!

Said I, "not half an hour ago

Your Mother has had alms of mine."

"That cannot be," one answered -" she is dead:"I looked reproof-they saw-but neither hung his head.

"She has been dead, Sir, many a day.”-
"Sweet Boys! Heaven hears that rash reply;

It was your Mother, as I say!"

And, in the twinkling of an eye,

"Come! come !” cried one, and without more ado,

Off to some other play the joyous Vagrants flew !

XXIII.

SEQUEL TO THE FOREGOING,

COMPOSED MANY YEARS AFTER.

WHERE are they now, those wanton Boys?
For whose free range the dædal earth
Was filled with animated toys,

And implements of frolic mirth;

With tools for ready wit to guide;

And ornaments of seemlier pride,

More fresh, more bright, than Princes wear;

For what one moment flung aside,

Another could repair;

What good or evil have they seen

Since I their pastime witnessed here,
Their daring wiles, their sportive cheer?
I ask but all is dark between!

Spirits of beauty and of grace!
Associates in that eager chase;
Ye, by a course to nature true,
The sterner judgment can subdue;