LIMBO. 'T'S a strange place, this Limbo !—not a Place,

Yet name it so ;-where Time and weary

Space Fettered from flight, with night-mare sense of fleeing, Strive for their last crepuscular half-being ;Lank Space, and scytheless Time with branny hands Barren and soundless as the measuring sands, Not mark'd by flit of Shades—unmeaning they As moonlight on the dial of the day! But that is lovely-looks like human Time,An old man with a steady look sublime, That stops his earthly task to watch the skies ; But he is blind-a statue hath such eyes ;Yet having moonward turned his face by chance, Gazes the orb with moon-like countenance, With scant white hairs, with foretop bold and high, He gazes still,-his eyeless face all eye ;As 'twere an organ full of silent sight, His whole face seemeth to rejoice in light !Lip touching lip, all moveless, bust and limbHe seems to gaze at that which seems to gaze on

him. No such sweet sights doth Limbo den immure, Wall'd round, and made a spirit-jail secure, By the mere horror of blank Naught-at-all, Whose circumambience doth these ghosts enthral. A lurid thought is growthless, dull Privation, Yet that is but a Purgatory curse; Hell knows a fear far worse, A fear-a future state ;-'tis positive Negation !

SOLE Positive of Night!

Antipathist of Light!
Fate's only essence ! primal scorpion rod-
The one permitted opposite of God!
Condensed blackness and abysmal storm

Compacted to one sceptre
Arms the Grasp enorm--

The Intercepter-
The Substance that still casts the shadow Death !-

The Dragon foul and fell

The unrevealable,
And hidden one, whose breath
Gives wind and fuel to the fires of Hell !

Ah! sole despair

Of both th' eternities in Heaven! Sole interdict of all bedewing prayer,

The all-compassionate !

Save to the Lampads Seven
Revealed to none of all th’ Angelic State,

Save to the Lampads Seven,
That watch the throne of Heaven!


Rime of the Ancient Mariner.




FACILE credo, plures esse Naturas invisibiles quam visibiles in rerum universitate. Sed horum omnium familiam quis nobis enarrabit, et gradus et cognationes et discrimina et singulorum munera ? Quid agunt ? quæ loca habitant Harum rerum notitiam semper ambivit ingenium humanum, nunquam attigit. Juvat, iuterea, non diffiteor, quandoqne in animo, tanquam in tabulâ, majoris et melioris mundi imaginem contemplari; ne mens assuefacta hodiernæ vitæ minutiis se contrahat nimis, et tota subsidat in pusillas cogitationes. Sed veritati interea invigilandum est, modusque servandus, ut certa ab incertis, diem a nocte, distinguamus.T.—BURNET. ARCHÆOL. PHIL. p. 68.

An ancient Mariner meeteth three gal

, bid

PART I. IT is an ancient Mariner,

And he stoppeth one of three. "By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, den told Now wherefore stopp’st thou me? “ The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide, And I am next of kin; The guests are met, the feast is set : May'st hear the merry din."

weddingfeast, and detaineth one.

He holds him with his skinny hand,
There was a ship,” quoth he.

To the tired Pilgrim's still believing mind ;
Or like some Elfin Knight in kingly court,
Who having won all guerdons in his sport,
Glides out of view, and whither none can find!


Yes! He hath flitted from me—with what aim,
Or why, I know not! 'Twas a home of bliss,
And he was innocent, as the pretty shame
Of babe, that tempts and shuns the menaced kiss,
From its twy-clustered hiding-place of snow !
Pure as the babe, I ween, and all aglow
As the dear hopes, that swell the mother's breast :
Her eyes down gazing o'er her clasped charge:
Yet gay as that twice happy father's kiss,
That well might glance aside, yet never miss,
Where the sweet mark embossed so sweet a targe-
Twice wretched he who hath been doubly blest !


Like a loose blossom on a gusty night
He flitted from me and has left behind
(As if to them his faith he ne'er did plight)
Of either sex and answerable mind
Two playmates, twin-births of his foster-dame :
The one a steady lad (Esteem he hight)
And Kindness is the gentler sister's name.
Dim likeness now, tho’ fair she be and good
Of that bright Boy who hath us all forsook ;
But in his full-eyed aspect when she stood,
And while her face reflected every look,
And in reflection kindled-she became
So like him, that almost she seemed the same !


Ah! He is gone, and yet will not depart !
Is with me still, yet I from Him exiled !
For still there lives within my secret heart
The magic image of the magic Child,
Which there he made up-grow by his strong art,
As in that crystal* orb-wise Merlin's feat,
The wondrous “ World of Glass," wherein inisled
All longed for things their beings did repeat ;-
And there He left it, like a Sylph beguiled,
To live and yearn and languish incomplete !


Can wit of man a heavier grief reveal ?
Can sharper pang from hate or scorn arise ?
Yes! one more sharp there is that deeper lies,
Which fond Esteem but mocks when he would heal.
Yet neither scorn nor hate did it devise,
But sad compassion and atoning zeal!
One pang more blighting-keen than hope betrayed !
And this it is my woful hap to feel,
When at her Brother's hest, the twin-born Maid
With face averted and unsteady eyes,
Her truant playmate's faded robe puts on;
And inly shrinking from her own disguise
Enacts the faery Boy that's lost and gone.
O worse than all! O



above Is Kindness counterfeiting absent Love !

* Faerie Queen, B. III, c. 2. 8. 19.

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