From Love began thy high descent; And lovers, charmed by gifts of thine, And call thee brightest of the Nine! LINES, INSCRIBED ON THE MONUMENT LATELY FINISHED BY ME. CHANTREY, WHICH HAS BEEN ERECTED BY THE WIDOW OF ADMIRAL SIR G. CAMPBELL, K. C. B., TO THE MEMORY OF HER HUSBAND. - To him, whose loyal, brave, and gentle heart, On her who mourns him most, and bears his name- Save in religion's hand holy trust, Whilst placing thei memorial o'er his dust. SONG, TO THE EVENING STAR. STAR that bringest home the bee, Appearing when Heaven's breath and brow Come to the luxuriant skies, Whilst the landscape's odors rise, Star of love's soft interviews, Of thrilling vows thou art, By absence from the heart STANZAS, ON THE BATTLE OF NAVARINO. HEARTS of oak that have bravely delivered the brave, And uplifted old Greece from the brink of the grave, 'Twas the helpless to help, and the hopeless to save, That your thunderbolts swept o'er the brine: And as long as yon sun shall look down on the wave The light of your glory shall shine. For the guerdon ye sought with your bloodshed and toil, Was it slaves, or dominion, or rapine, or spoil? No! your lofty emprise was to fetter and foil The uprooter of Greece's domain ! When he tore the last remnant of food from her soil, Till her famished sank pale as the slain! Yet, Navarino's heroes! does Cristendom breed Are they women?-to Turkish serails let them speed; And be mothers of Mussulman slaves. Abettors of massacre! dare ye deplore That the death-shriek is silenced on Hellas's shore? And that stretched on your billows distained by their gore Prouder scene never hallowed war's pomp to the mind, Than when Christendom's pennons woo'd social the wind, And the flower of her brave for the combat combined, Their watchword, humanity's vow: Not a sea-boy that fought in that cause, but mankind Owes a garland to honor his brow! Nor grudge, by our side, that to conquer or fall, That star of thy day-spring, regenerate Greek! THE MAID'S REMONSTRANCE. NEVER wedding, ever wooing, Still a love-lorn heart pursuing, In my cheek's pale hue? All my life with sorrow strewing; Wed, or cease to woo. Rivals banished, bosoms plighted, Now the lamp of hope is lighted, Now half quenched appears, Damped, and wavering, and benighted, Charms you call your dearest blessing, ABSENCE. "Tis not the loss of love's assurance, It is not doubting what thou art, But 'tis the too, too long endurance The fondest thoughts two hearts can cherish, What though, untouched by jealous madness, Our bosom's peace may fall to wreck; |