Comes in the glow of youthful strength.Oh, let me guide his steps victorious,
The hero's wounded limb,Her neighbour cannot rest, for she
THE smoke that from thine altar blows,
Ah, my terror waxes stronger!
Merlin the old, from his glittering grave,When I, a stripling, once spoke to him,--gave
Who takes this gift with soul of purity,--"The veil of Minstrelsy from Truth's own hand,Of sunlight and of morn's sweet fragrance plann'd.
And he then extended his fore-finger,--(Ruddy was it as a youthful rosebud)Tow'rd the broad and far outstretching carpet,And began to draw there with his finger.
The bowl he raised, the bowl he quaff'd:
1815.-----NEXT YEAR'S SPRING.
IV. Book of Contemplation :--
Know'st thou the mountain, and its cloudy bridge?The mule can scarcely find the misty ridge;In caverns dwells the dragon's olden brood,The frowning crag obstructs the raging flood.Know'st thou it well?
Three knights then advance, riding all in a group,
Scenes of heav'nly rapture past,