"IT IS NOT TO BE THOUGHT OF" It is not to be thought of that the Flood Of British freedom, which, to the open sea Of the world's praise, from dark antiquity Hath flowed, "with pomp of waters, unwithstood," Roused though it be full often to a mood Should perish; and to evil and to good That Shakspeare spake; the faith and morals hold Which Milton held.-In everything we are sprung Of Earth's first blood, have titles manifold. 1802. "WHEN I HAVE BORNE IN MEMORY" WHEN I have borne in memory what has tamed COMPOSED AFTER A JOURNEY ACROSS THE HAMBLETON Composed October 4th, 1802, after a journey over the Hambleton Hills, on a day memorable to me-the day of my marriage. The horizon commanded by those hills is most magnificent.The next day, while we were travelling in a postchaise up Wensleydale, we were stopt by one of the horses proving restive, and were obliged to wait two hours in a severe storm before the postboy could fetch from the inn another to supply its place. The spot was in front of Bolton Hall, where Mary Queen of Scots was kept prisoner soon after her unfortunate landing at Workington. The place then belonged to the Scroopes, and memorials of her are yet preserved there. To beguile the time I composed a Sonnet. The subject was our own confinement contrasted with hers; but it was not thought worthy of being preserved. DARK and more dark the shades of evening fell; The wished-for point was reached-but at an hour When little could be gained from that rich dower Of prospect, whereof many thousands tell. Yet did the glowing west with marvellous power Salute us; there stood Indian citadel, Temple of Greece, and minster with its tower Substantially expressed—a place for bell Or clock to toll from! Many a tempting isle, Great Nations, how ennobling thoughts With groves that never were imagined, lay depart When men change swords for ledgers, and desert The student's bower for gold, some fears unnamed I had, my Country!-am I to be blamed? Now, when I think of thee, and what thou art, Verily, in the bottom of my heart, 1802. 'Mid seas how steadfast! objects all for the eye Of silent rapture; but we felt the while We should forget them; they are of the sky, And from our earthly memory fade away. 1802. STANZAS WRITTEN IN MY POCKET-COPY OF THOMSON'S "CASTLE OF INDOLENCE Composed in the orchard, Town-end, Grasmere, Coleridge living with us much at the time: his son Hartley has said, that his father's character and habits are here preserved in a livelier way than in anything that has been written about him. TO H. C. SIX YEARS OLD O THOU! whose fancies from afar are brought; Who of thy words dost make a mock apparel, And fittest to unutterable thought The breeze-like motion and the self-born carol; Thou faery voyager! that dost float To brood on air than on an earthly stream; O blessed vision! happy child! I think of thee with many fears For what may be thy lot in future years. Lord of thy house and hospitality; But when she sate within the touch of thee. O vain and causeless melancholy! Or, lengthening out thy season of delight, A young lamb's heart among the full-grown flocks. What hast thou to do with sorrow, Ill fitted to sustain unkindly shocks, But, at the touch of wrong, without a strife TO THE DAISY1 1802. Through the meanest object's sight. G. WITHER. IN youth from rock to rock I went, Most pleased when most uneasy; Of Thee, sweet Daisy! Thee Winter in the garland wears When rains are on thee. In shoals and bands, a morrice train, Thou greet'st the traveller in the lane; Pleased at his greeting thee again; Yet nothing daunted, Nor grieved if thou be set at nought: Be violets in their secret mews Her head impearling, Thou liv'st with less ambitious aim, If to a rock from rains he fly, Near the green holly, And wearily at length should fare; TO THE DAISY This and the other Poems addressed to the same flower were composed at Town-end, Grasmere, during the earlier part of my residence there. I have been censured for the last line but one"thy function apostolical "—as being little less than profane. How could it be thought so? The word is adopted with reference to its derivation, implying something sent on a mission; and assuredly this little flower, especially when the subject of verse, may be regarded, in its humble degree, as administering both to moral and to spiritual purposes. BRIGHT Flower! whose home is everywhere, Bold in maternal Nature's care, Methinks that there abides in thee Some concord with humanity, Given to no other flower I see One have I marked, the happiest guest In joy of voice and pinion! And this is thy dominion. While birds, and butterflies, and flowers, A Life, a Presence like the Air, Thyself thy own enjoyment. Amid yon tuft of hazel trees, Yet seeming still to hover; My dazzled sight he oft deceives, 1803. THE GREEN LINNET BENEATH these fruit-tree boughs that shed Their snow-white blossoms on my head, YEW-TREES Written at Grasmere. These yew-trees are still standing, but the spread of that at Lorton is much diminished by mutilation. I will here mention that a little way up the hill, on the road leading from Rosthwaite to Stonethwaite (m Borrowdale), lay the trunk of a yew-tree, which appeared as you approached, so vast was its diameter, like the entrance of a cave, and not a small one. Calculating upon what I have observed of the slow growth of this tree in rocky situations, and of its durability, I have often thought that the one I am describing must have been as old as the Christian era. The tree lay in the line of a fence. Great masses of its ruins were strewn about, and some had been rolled down the hillside and lay near the road at the |