POETRY. 979 



How then shall man, so frail, his way pursue, 



How, not bewildcr'd in the gloom, despair? 



How light the holy lamp, to light him through ? 



Cease, — Reasoner cease, and mark the wanderer's prayer. 



The moral path, O God, by thee design'd, 

 Still may I tread, — nor tread with fatal pride: 

 \yhate'er my worth, — to thee be praise assign'd : 

 To thee, — who art its maker and its guide. 



« If to the sapient page I turn mine eye, 

 Deep be my search of wisdom, not of fame ; 

 Its end, — thy glorious system to descry, 

 To laud thy bounties, and thy power proclaim ! 



<' Not for its splendour, or its ardent force, 

 We bless the sun, — but for its genial heat ; 

 And thou shalt bless the good man's pious course. 

 Nor heed the boasted glories of the great. 



May then no series of heroic deeds, , 



Dazzle the nations with my rising fame ! 



But let me sooth the wretched heart that bleeds, 



And may the poor man's prayer repeat my name ! 



So shall I wisely pass, — ■' my day on earth,' 



The morn, — in infant innocence and glee ; 



The noon, — in pious thoughts, and deeds of worlli, 



The ev'n, — in giving up the account to thee ! 



EPISODE OF CARADOC AND SENENA. 

 From Macoc, % Southey. 



MAID of the golden locks, far other lot 

 ]\fay gentle heaven assign thy happier love, 

 Blue-eyed Scnena! . . She, though not as yet 

 Had she put off her boy habiliments. 

 Had told Goervyl all the history 

 Of her sad flight, and easy pardon gained 

 From that sweet heart, for guile which meant no ill, 

 And secresy, in shame too long maintained. 

 With her dear lady now, at this still hour 

 Of evening, is the seeming page gone forth, 

 Ikside Caermadoc mere. They loitered on, 

 .Mong the windings of its grassy shore, 



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