6.

As on the shipwrecked mariner

The weltering wave's descent

The wave, o'er which, a moment since,
For distant shores he bent

And bent in vain, his eager eye;

So on that stricken head

Came whelming down the mighty Past.

How often did his pen

Essay to tell the wondrous tale

For after times and men,

And o'er the lines that could not die

His hand lay dead.

7.

How often, as the listless day

In silence died away,

He stood with lightning eye deprest,
And arms across his breast,

And bygone years, in rushing train,
Smote on his soul amain :

The breezy tents he seemed to see,
And the battering cannon's course,
And the flashing of the infantry,
And the torrent of the horse,
And, obeyed as soon as heard,

Th' ecstatic word.

8.

Ahi! forse a tanto strazio
Cadde lo spirto anelo,
E disperò; ma valida
Venne un man dal cielo,
E in più spirabil aere
Pietosa il trasportò;

E l'avviò su i floridi
Sentier della speranza,

Ai campi eterni, al premio

Che i desiderii avanza,

Ov' è silenzio e tenebre

La gloria che passò.

9.

Bella, immortal, benefica
Fede, ai trionfi avvezza,
Scrivi ancor questo; allegrati:
Che più superba altezza

Al disonor del Golgota
Giammai non si chinò.

Tu dalle stanche ceneri
Sperdi ogni ria parola ;
Il Dio, che atterra e suscita,
Che affanna e che consola,

Sulla deserta coltrice

Accanto a lui posò.

8.

Haply, by that wild struggle riven
The panting heart had failed

In cold despair; but help from Heaven
Descended and prevailed,

And raised him up, and pitying bare

Into a genial air,

And oared him on the flowery ways

Of Hope, and bade aspire

To those blest plains, and to the prize
That passes all desire,

Where darkly sinks in silence down

Earth's brief renown.

9.

O fair, O deathless, O benign,
O still victorious Faith,
This triumph reckon too for thine
With joy; for ne'er in Death
A sterner pride hath stooped to woo
The shame of Golgotha :

From his outwearied ashes warn
Each word of wrath and scorn:

The God, that gives or eases pain,
That smites, and lifts again,

On that lone couch, in that dark day,

Beside him lay.

1861.

Der Graf von Habsburg.

Zu Aachen, in seiner Kaiserpracht,
Im alterthümlichen Saale,
Saß König Rudolphs heilige Macht

Beym festlichen Krönungsmahle.

Die Speisen trug der Pfalzgraf des Rheins,
Es schenkte der Böhme des perlenden Weins,
Und alle die Wähler, die Sieben,

Wie der Sterne Chor um die Sonne sich stellt,
Umstanden geschäftig den Herrscher der Welt,
Die Würde des Amtes зи üben.

Und rings erfüllte den hohen Balkon

Das Volk in freud'gem Gedränge ;)

Laut mischte sich in der Posaunen Ton

Das jauchzende Rufen der Menge;

Denn geendigt nach langem verderblichen Streit

War die kaiserlose, die schreckliche Zeit;

Und ein Richter war wieder auf Erden.

Nicht blind mehr waltet der eiserne Speer,
Nicht fürchtet der Schwache, der Friedliche mehr,

Des Mächtigen Beute zu werden.

The Count of Hapsburgh.

THE ancient hall of Aix was bright;
The Coronation-board beside
Sate King Rodolph's anointed might,
In Kaiser's pomp and pride:
His meat was served by the Palatine,
Bohemia poured the sparkling wine;
The Seven Electors every one
Stood, fast about the wide-world's King,

Each his high function following,

Like the planets round the sun.

The people, in their joyous throng,
The galleries o'er him crowd,
And the wild trumpet's tone prolong

With acclamations loud;

The kingless time is brought to close,

The desperate struggle to repose,

Earth has a Judge again to-day;

No more prevails the iron spear,
Nor the feeble and the peaceful fear

To be the mighty's prey.

N