OXV. TO AILSA ROCK. HEARKEN, thou craggy ocean pyramid ! Give answer from thy voice, the sea-fowl's screams! When were thy shoulders mantled in huge streams! When, from the sun, was thy broad forehead hid ? How long is't since the mighty power bid Thee heave to airy sleep from fathom dreams? The last in air, the former in the deep; First with the whales, last with the eagle-skiesDrown'd wast thou till an earthquake made thee steep, Another cannot wake thy giant size. CXVI. ON THE ELGIN MARBLES. My spirit is too weak; mortality That I have not the cloudy winds to keep Bring round the heart an indescribable feud ; So do these wonders a most dizzy pain, That mingles Grecian grandeur with the rule Wasting of old Time—with a billowy main, A sun, a shadow of a magnitude. CXVII. TO HOMER. STANDING aloof in giant ignorance, Of thee I hear and of the Cyclades, As one who sits ashore and longs perchance So thou wast blind !-but then the veil was rent, To Dian, Queen of Earth, and Heaven, and Hell. CXVIII. THE DAY IS GONE. THE day is gone, and all its sweets are gone! Bright eyes, accomplish'd shape, and lang'rous waist! Faded the flower and all its budded charms, Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes, Of fragrant-curtain'd love begins to weave CXIX. BRIGHT STAR! BRIGHT STAR! would I were steadfast as thou art- Like Nature's patient, sleepless Eremite, Of snow upon the mountains and the moors No-yet still steadfast, still unchangeable, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, |