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This is love, who, deaf to prayers,

Floods with blessings
Draw, if then cault, the mystic line
Severing rightly his from theres
Which is human, which divine.

blessing unawares.

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Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime,

The image of Eternity, the throne

Of the Invisible! even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone

His steps are not upon thy paths, thy fields Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, Are not a spoil for him, thou dost arise

And shake him from thee; the vile strength

he wields

For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray And howling, to his gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth :- there let him lay.

The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee and arbiter of war, These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride or spoils of Trafalgar.

alone.

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[Written at Scarborough, in the Summer of 1805.]

ALL hail to the ruins, the rocks, and the shores!
Thou wide-rolling Ocean, all hail !

But now the fair rivers of Paradise wind
Through countries and kingdoms o'erthrown;
Where the giant of tyranny crushes mankind,
Where he reigns, and will soon reign alone;
For wide and more wide, o'er the sun-beaming

zone

He stretches his hundred-fold arms,

Despoiling, destroying its charms;

Beneath his broad footstep the Ganges is dry,
And the mountains recoil from the flash of his
eye.

Thus the pestilent Upas, the demon of trees,
Its boughs o'er the wilderness spreads,

And with livid contagion polluting the breeze,
Its mildewing influence sheds;

The birds on the wing, and the flowers in their
beds,

Are slain by its venomous breath,
That darkens the noonday with death,
And pale ghosts of travelers wander around,
While their moldering skeletons whiten the
ground.

Ah! why hath Jehovah, in forming the world,
With the waters divided the land,

His ramparts of rocks round the continent hurled,

Now brilliant with sunbeams and dimpled with And cradled the deep in his hand,

oars,

Now dark with the fresh-blowing gale,

If man may transgress his eternal command,
And leap o'er the bounds of his birth,

While soft o'er thy bosom the cloud-shadows sail, To ravage the uttermost earth,

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And violate nations and realms that should be
Distinct as the billows, yet one as the sea?

There are, gloomy Ocean, a brotherless clan,
Who traverse thy banishing waves,
The poor disinherited outcasts of man,
Whom Avarice coins into slaves.
From the homes of their kindred, their fore-
fathers' graves,

Love, friendship, and conjugal bliss,
They are dragged on the hoary abyss ;
The shark hears their shrieks, and, ascending
to-day,

Demands of the spoiler his share of the prey.

Then joy to the tempest that whelms them be-
neath,

And makes their destruction its sport;
But woe to the winds that propitiously breathe,
And waft them in safety to port,

Where the vultures and vampires of Mammon
resort;

Where Europe exultingly drains
The life-blood from Africa's veins;
Where man rules o'er man with a merciless rod,
And spurns at his footstool the image of God!

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