feet,
Fair Helen of Kirconnel,
Music from Shore
ib.
X. Mary at the Feet of Chris.,
XI. The Sisters of Bethany, &c.,
XII. Memorial of Mary,
418
Look on me with thy cloudless eyes, ib. XIII. The Women of Jerusalem at
If thou hast crush'd a flower,
419
Brightly hast thou fled,
the Cross,
420 XIV. Mary Magdalene at the Sepu'
chre,
The Bed of Heath,
Fairy Song,
ib.
421
ib.
What woke the buried sound,
O! if thou wilt not give thine heart, 422
Look on me thus no more,
Sing to me, Gondolier,
ib.
ib.
423
ib,
424
O'er the far blue mountains,
Oh, thou breeze of Spring,
Come to me dreams of Heaven,
Good-Night,
Let her depart,
How can that love so deep, so lone, ib.
Water-Lilies,
ib.
425
426
ib. SONNETS DEVOTIONAL AND
The Broken Flower,
I would we had not met again,
Fairies' Recall,
427
ib.
428
VII. The Annunciation,
VIII. The Song of the Virgin,
IX. The Penitent anointing Christ's
XV. The Same, bearin Tidir cs of
the Resurrection,
The Two Monuments,
The Cottage Girl,
The Battle-Field,
474
478
Hymn of the Vaudois Mountaineers, 477
The Indian's Revenge,
Prayer at Sea after Victory,
Evening Song of the Weary,
The Day of Flowers,
483
484
ib.
Hymn of the Traveller's Household, 488
A Prayer of Affection,
490
ib
The Painter's Last Work,
Mother's Litany by the Sickbed of
a Child,
Night Hymn at Sea,
A Penitent's Return,
A Thought of Paradise.
Let us Depart,
To a Picture of Chris. earing the
Cross.
Communings with Th. ght,
IV. Picture of Infan: Christ with
ib.
XI. The Olive Tree,
ib.
XII. The Darkness of the Crucifixion, 512
XIII. Places of Worship,
ib.
XIV. Old Church in an English Park, ib.
XV. A Church in North Wales, 513
XVI. Louise Schepler,
XVII. To the Same,
ib.
514
The Water-Lily,
ib.
RECORDS OF THE SPRING OF
1834:-
I. A Vernal Thought,
II. To the Sky,
III. On Records of Immature Ge-
nius,
IV. On watching the flight of a
Skylark,
V. A Thought of the Sea,
VI. Distant Sound of the Sea at
Evening
517
III. The River Clwyd in North
Wales,
ib.
ib.
III. Orchard Blossoms,
IX. To a Distant Scene,
518
519
X. A Remembrance of Grasmere, ib.
XI. Thoughts connected with trees, ib.
XI. The Same,
XIII. On Reading Paul and Vir-
ginia in Childhood,
XIV. A Thought at Sunset,
XV. Images of Patriarchal life
XVI. Attraction of the East,
XVII. To an Aged Friend,
XVIII. Foliage,
Sabbath Sonnet
520
Critical Remarks on the Genius o
Mrs. Hemans, by Delta--by the
late Letitia Elizabeth Landon-
and by H. F. Chorley,
ib. Ditto by Professor Norton,
581 Juvenile Poems,
ib.
THE VESPERS OF PALERMO.
A TRAGEDY, IN FIVE ACTS.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
COUNT DI PROCIDA.
GUIDO.
RAIMOND DI PROCIDA, his Son. ALBERTI.
ERIBERT, Viceroy.
DE COUCI.
MONTALBA.
ANSELMO, a Monk.
VITTORIA.
CONSTANCE, Sister to Eribert
Nobles, Soldiers, Messengers, Vassals, Peasants, &c. &c.
ACT I.
SCENE I.-A Valley with Vineyards and Cottages.
Groups of Peasants-PROCIDA, disguised as a
Pilgrim, among them.
1st Pea. Ay, this was wont to be a festal time
In days gone by! I can remember well
The old familiar melodies that rose
At break of morn, from all our purple hills,
To welcome in the vintage. Never since
Hath music seem'd so sweet. But the light hearts
Which to those measures beat so joyously,
Are tamed to stillness now. There is no voice
Of joy through all the land.
2d Pea.
Yes! there are sounds
Of revelry within the palaces,
And the fair castles of our ancient lords,
Where now the stranger banquets. Ye may hear,
From thence the peals of song and laughter rise
At midnight's deepest hour.
3d Pea.
Alas! we sat,
In happier days, so peacefully beneath
The olives and the vines our fathers rear'd,
Encircled by our children, whose quick steps
Flew by us in the dance! The time hath been
When peace was in the hamlet, wheresoe'er
The storm might gather. But this yoke of France
7
Falls on the peasant's neck as heavily
As on the crested chieftain's.
E'en to the earth.
Pea.'s Child. My father, tell me when Shall the gay dance and song again resound Amidst our chestnut-woods, as in those days Of which thou'rt wont to tell the joyous tale?
1st Pea. When there are light and reckless hearts once more
In Sicily's green vales. Alas! my boy,
Men meet not now to quaff the flowing bowl,
To hear the mirthful song, and cast aside
The weight of work-day care:-they meet to speak
Of wrongs and sorrows, and to whisper thoughts
They dare not breathe aloud.
Pro. (from the background.) Ay, it is well
So to relieve th' o'erburthen'd heart, which pants
Beneath its weight of wrong; but better far
In silence to avenge them!
An Old Pea.
Came with that startling tone?
1st Pea.
It was our guest's,
The stranger pilgrim who hath sojourn'd here
Since yestermorn. Good neighbors mark him well:
He hath a stately bearing, and an eye
Whose glance looks through the heart. His mien accords
Ill with such vestments. How he folds round him
His pilgrim cloak, e'en as it were a robe
Of knightly ermine! That commanding step
Should have been used in courts and camps to move.
Mark him!
Old Pea. Nay, rather, mark him not; the times
Are fearful, and they teach the boldest hearts
A cautious lesson. What should bring him here?
A Youth. He spoke of vengeance!
Old Pea.
By snares on every side, and we must learn
In silence and in patience to endure.
Talk not of vengeance, for word is death.
Pro. (coming forward indignantly.)
And what hath life for thee,
That thou shouldst cling to it thus? thou abject thing?
Whose very soul is moulded to the yoke,
And stamp'd with servitude. What! is it life,
Thus at a breeze to start, to school thy voice
Into low fearful whispers, and to cast
Pale jealous looks around thee, lest e'en then,
Strangers should catch its echo?-Is there aught
In this so precious, that thy furrow'd cheek
Is blanch'd with terror at the passing thought
Of hazarding some few and evil days,
Which drag thus poorly on?
Some of Peas.
Away, away!
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