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Whether thou bid'st the well-taught hind repeat

45 The choral dirge that mourns some chieftain brave,

50

55

60

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When headless Charles1 warm on the scaffold lay!

As Boreas threw his young Aurora forth,

In the first year of the first George's reign,

And battles rag'd in welkin2 of the North,

They mourn'd in air, fell, fell Rebellion slain!

And as, of late, they joy'd in Preston's

fight,

Saw at sad Falkirk all their hopes near crown'd,

The sturdy clans pour'd forth their 80 They rav'd, divining, thro' their second

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They see the gliding ghosts unbodied troop;

Or if in sports, or on the festive green, Their [destined] glance some fated youth descry,

Who. now perhaps in lusty vigor seen And rosy health, shall soon lamented die.

65 For them the viewless forms of air obey, Their bidding heed, and at their beck repair.

They know what spirit brews the stormful day,

3

And, heartless, oft like moody madness stare

To see the phantom train their secret work prepare.

70 [To monarchs dear, some hundred miles astray,

Oft have they seen Fate give the fatal blow!

The seer. in Sky, shriek 'd as the blood

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These, too, thou'lt sing! for well thy magic Muse

Can to the topmost heav'n of grandeur soar!

Or stoop to wail the swain that is no more!

90 Ah, homely swains! your homeward steps ne'er lose;

Let not dank Will mislead you to the heath:

Dancing in mirky night, o'er fen and lake,

He glows, to draw you downward to your death,

In his bewitch'd, low, marshy willow brake!]

95 What tho' far off, from some dark dell espied,

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170

climb,

And of its eggs despoil the solan's1 nest.

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Thus blest in primal innocence they 195 When each live plant with mortal ac

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cents spoke,

And the wild blast upheav'd the vanish'd sword!

How have I sat, when pip'd the pensive wind,

To hear his harp, by British Fairfax strung,

Prevailing poet, whose undoubting mind Believ'd the magic wonders which he

sung!

Hence at each sound imagination glows; [The MS. lacks a line here.]

Hence his warm lay with softest sweetness flows;

Melting it flows, pure, num 'rous, strong, and clear,

And fills th' impassion'd heart, and wins th' harmonious ear.

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1 Tasso, Jerusalem Delivered, 13, 41-43.

2 bays

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