To night on Berwyn's mountains brown;
And from the blue Italian heaven

Through ivied arch and columns riven

Where eternal Rome remains,

The high one that for ever reigns-
Rome in ruin, Rome for ever,
On her Hills and by her River,
With her hundred ages grey,
From the far Pelasgic day,
With the thousand glories over,
That around her rise and hover,
Shadows in the pale moon's light
When she wins the noon of night
O'er the Colosseum's height,
All a thought, a Presence there,
Where Romulus and Cæsar were.

-The scenes that were!-They do not cease,
Nor summer, in the land of Greece.

The Apian hills are there the same

That there were when th' Egyptian came,
And Sappho's love and heaven-like seas

For ever with the Cyclades.

Scamander through the Trojan plain
Has roll'd three thousand years again.

(30) Esch. 'IKεT. 117; Dind. Ox. 1832.

Where lies Achilles31 I may

lie;

31

And there where Byron stood may I.
--Jerusalem!-When I have trod

That Palestine, that land of God—
All wondrous from the vast afar,
From Abram to the Red-Cross war-,

When I from Peor32 my eyes have rais'd32,

33

From Nebo all the land o'ergaz'd,

When I have stood on Zion's height,

34

From Gibeon watch'd away the light",

35

At Endor with the night have been*,

From Gilboa days departed seen,

On Lebanon have known to be,

36

From Carmel look'd upon the sea,

By Jordan's stream have sought my way,
And stray'd where Kedron's waters stray,
When I at evening hour37 38 have sate

(31) "There on the green and village-spotted hill is (Flank'd by the Hellespont and by the sea) Entomb'd the bravest of the brave, Achilles: They say so (Bryant says the contrary):"

"I've stood upon Achilles' tomb." Byron.

(32) Numb. xxiv, 2. (33) Deut. xxxiv, 1. (34) Josh. x, 12.

(35) 1 Sam. xxviii, 8, 25.

(36) 1 Kings, xviii, 42, 3.

(37) Matth. xxvi, 20, 30.

Mark, xiv, 17, 26. Luke, xxi,

37; xxii, 14, 39. John, xiii, 2; xiv, 31.

Alone upon Mount Olivet,
And in Gethsemane alone,
38

And Calvary when I have known—
When that may be, I then may know
To think the thing: but now not so.

I thought to find my far delight
And live awhile as most I might,
While yet the spirit swift and strong
Feels the blood beat warm along;
In these the days that, well I know,
Are gone for ever when they go,
And which I well would win while I
May muse them, while with them I die;
Even as I pause in silent bliss

On each sweet summer-day, like this;

All to sum myself within,

All the summer-day to win;

As though I linger on the last",

(38) Matth. xxvi, 20, 36. Mark, xiv, 17, 32. Luke, xxii, 14, 40. John, xiii, 2; xviii, 1.

(39) "Ego sic semper et ubique vixi, ut ultimam quamque lucem, tamquam non redituram, consumerem." Petronius, xcix; Burm. Utr. 1709.

And see the note, p. 466; and the comment of De Salas, vol. II, p. 157.

Before they all indeed be past
From this my life, that wears away,
Yet unwon, with every day

Which I watch go down to dwell
Behind the hills I love so well,

As I pace the headland field,
Musing how myself to wield-
Many things, and many a thought
Well and deeply to be wrought;
As I muse what most may be
That which were the life for me.

-The sword!—my father's-: I their son
Whose swords so well their honours won;
In whose proud blood that beats so high
I live my life's mortality.

The keen bright blade! where when I gaze

I

see, I see the other days.

A thousand thoughts of fire are o'er me.

Napoleon's glory burns before me.

-The war-cry comes !-long, loud and high

The bugle-blast, the battle cry!

-The vanguard moves in deep array!

--To-day will be a deadly day!

-The war-steed stands, and tears the ground!

-The war-cry comes !-he hears the sound!

-To day will be a deadly day! -The spur!-the sabre !-and away

Those are visions.

What would be

That which were most the life for me
Must to a mood more real aspire,
A deeper strain, and therefore higher,
Than aught that thus but starts to flame
At glancing steel or glorious name,
And ardours in the spirit's youth,

Too fleet and fierce and proud for truth.

Alt amplitude, all leisure, long

Days, and deep nights the dead among,
Books and all, and years must be

For science such as I would see;

For all the mind that all would be

In deep and high Reality.

The thing of thought, the stirring mind

That in this living soul I find

Much must I study, much must see,

To know it what it most may be ;

If thus, even thus, it be, and well

With me and with the world must dwell

Though such a world of men there be,