COMMANDER OF THE E.I. COMPANY'S SHIP THE EARL OF ABERGAVENNY, IN WHICH HE PERISHED BY CALAMITOUS SHIPWRECK, FEB. 6, 1805. Composed near the Mountain track that leads from Grasmere through Grisdale Hawes, where it descends towards Paterdale. "Here did we stop; and here looked round, While each into himself descends." The point is two or three yards below the outlet of Grisdale tarn, on a foot-road by which a horse may pass to Paterdale-a ridge of Helvellyn on the left, and the summit of Fairfield on the right. IV Full soon in sorrow did I weep, All vanished in a single word, A breath, a sound, and scarcely heard: The meek, the brave, the good, was gone; V That was indeed a parting! oh, But they as well as I have gains;— VI He would have loved thy modest grace, Meek Flower! To Him I would have said, 'It grows upon its native bed Beside our Parting-place; There, cleaving to the ground, it lies VII -Brother and Friend, if verse of mine Have power to make thy virtues known, Here let a monumental Stone Stand-sacred as a Shrine; And to the few who pass this way, 1805. WHEN TO THE ATTRACTIONS The grove still exists, but the plantation has been walled in, and is not so accessible as when my brother John wore the path in the manner here described. The grove was a favourite haunt with us all while we lived at Town-end. WHEN, to the attractions of the busy world, With frequent showers of snow. Upon a hill At a short distance from my cottage, stands To sympathise with vulgar coppice birds house Of nature and of love had made their home Amid the fir-trees, all the summer long Dwelt in a tranquil spot. And oftentimes, A few sheep, stragglers from some mountainflock, Would watch my motions with suspicious stare, The plant alluded to is the Moss Campion (Silene acaulis of Linnæus). See Note. To abide, For what was now so obvious. Begun and ended, in the shady grove, A heart more wakeful; and had worn the track By pacing here, unwearied and alone, o'er His short domain upon the vessel's deck, While she pursues her course through the dreary sea. When thou hadst quitted Esthwaite's pleasant shore, And taken thy first leave of those green hills And rocks that were the play-ground of thy youth, Year followed year, my Brother! and we two, Conversing not, knew little in what mould Each other's mind was fashioned; and at length, When once again we met in Grasmere Vale, Between us there was little other bond Undying recollections! Nature there she still Was with thee; and even so didst thou become A silent Poet; from the solitude Of the vast sea didst bring a watchful heart Still couchant, an inevitable ear, And an eye practised like a blind man's touch. -Back to the joyless Ocean thou art gone; Nor from this vestige of thy musing hours Could I withhold thy honoured name,— and now I love the fir-grove with a perfect love. Thither do I withdraw when cloudless suns Shine hot, or wind blows troublesome and strong; And there I sit at evening, when the steep Of Silver-how, and Grasmere's peacefu! lake, And one green island, gleam between the stems Of the dark firs, a visionary scene! sight Of solemn loveliness, I think on thee, Art pacing thoughtfully the vessel's deck In some far region, here, while o'er my head, At every impulse of the moving breeze, The fir-grove murmurs with a sea-like sound, Alone I tread this path;--for aught I know, Timing my steps to thine; and, with a store Of undistinguishable sympathies, Mingling most earnest wishes for the day When we, and others whom we love, shall meet A second time, in Grasmere's happy Vale. 1805. NOTE.-This wish was not granted; the lamented Person not long after perished by shipwreck, in discharge of his duty as Commander of the Honourable East India Company's Vessel, the Earl of Abergavenny. LOUISA AFTER ACCOMPANYING HER ON A MOUNTAIN EXCURSION Written at Town-end, Grasmere. I MET Louisa in the shade, That, nymph-like, she is fleet and strong, She loves her fire, her cottage-home; Take all that's mine "beneath the moon,"' Of some old cave, or mossy nook, TO A YOUNG LADY 1805. WHO HAD BEEN REPROACHED FOR TAKING LONG WALKS IN THE COUNTRY Composed at the same time and on the same view as "I met Louisa in the shade": indeed they were designed to make one piece. Written at Town-end, Grasmere. Faithfully narrated, though with the omission of many pathetic circumstances, from the mouth of a French lady, who had been an eye-and-ear-witness of all that was done and said. Many long years after, I was told that Dupligne was then a monk in the Convent of La Trappe. The following tale was written as an Episode, in a work from which its length may perhaps exclude it. The facts are true; no invention as to these has been exercised, as none was needed. O HAPPY time of youthful lovers (thus My story may begin) O balmy time, In which a love-knot on a lady's brow Is fairer than the fairest star in heaven! To such inheritance of blessed fancy (Fancy that sports more desperately with minds Than ever fortune hath been known to do) The high-born Vaudracour was brought, by years Whose progress had a little overstepped His stripling prime. A town of small repute, Among the vine-clad mountains of Auvergne, Was the Youth's birth-place. There he wooed a Maid Who heard the heart-felt music of his suit 1 The first four lines occur in The Prelude, book ix. p. 306. Plebeian, though ingenuous, the stock, From which her graces and her honours sprung: And hence the father of the enamoured Youth, With haughty indignation, spurned the thought Of such alliance.-From their cradles up, With but a step between their several homes, Twins had they been in pleasure; after strife And petty quarrels, had grown fond again; Each other's advocate, each other's stay; And, in their happiest moments, not content, If more divided than a sportive pair Within the eddy of a common blast, Thus, not without concurrence of an age Earth breathed in one great presence of the spring; Life turned the meanest of her implements, Before his eyes, to price above all gold; The house she dwelt in was a sainted shrine; Her chamber-window did surpass in glory The portals of the dawn; all paradise Could, by the simple opening of a door, Let itself in upon him :-pathways, walks, Swarmed with enchantment, till his spirit sank, Surcharged, within him, overblest to move Beneath a sun that wakes a weary world To its dull round of ordinary cares; A man too happy for mortality! So passed the time, till whether through effect |