III.— ORPHEUS.

The music of the Sirens found

Ulysses weak, though cords were strong;

But happier Orpheus stood unbound,

And shamed it with a sweeter song.

His mode be mine. Of Heav'n I ask,

May I, with heart-persuading might,

Pursue the Poet's sacred task

Of superseding faith by sight,

Till ev'n the witless Gadarene,

Preferring Christ to swine, shall know

That life is sweetest when it's clean.

To prouder folly let me show

Earth by divine light made divine;

And let the saints, who hear my word,

Say,‘ Lo, the clouds begin to shine

About the coming of the Lord!’