Many flocks were on the hills, but thou wert owned by

none,

And thy mother from thy side for evermore was gone.

"He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought thee
home :

A blessed day for thee! then whither wouldst thou roam?
A faithful nurse thou hast ; the dam that did thee yean
Upon the mountain-tops no kinder could have been.

'Thou know'st that twice a day I have brought thee in
this can

Fresh water from the brook, as clear as ever ran;
And twice in the day, when the ground is wet with dew,
I bring thee draughts of milk, warm milk it is and new.

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40

"Thy limbs will shortly be twice as stout as they are now, 45
Then I'll yoke thee to my cart like a pony in the plough;
My playmate thou shalt be; and when the wind is cold
Our hearth shall be thy bed, our house shall be thy fold.

"It will not, will not rest!

Poor creature, can it be

That 't is thy mother's heart which is working so in thee? 50 Things that I know not of belike to thee are dear,

And dreams of things which thou canst neither see nor

९९

hear.

Alas, the mountain-tops that look so green and fair! I've heard of fearful winds and darkness that come there; The little brooks that seem all pastime and all play,

When they are angry, roar like lions for their prey.

'Here thou need'st not dread the raven in the sky;

Night and day thou art safe, our cottage is hard by.

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Why bleat so after me? Why pull so at thy chain?

Sleep — and at break of day I will come to thee again!" 60

As homeward through the lane I went with lazy feet,
This song to myself did I oftentimes repeat;

And it seemed, as I retraced the ballad line by line,
That but half of it was hers, and one half of it was mine.

Again, and once again, did I repeat the song ;

ee

"Nay," said I, more than half to the damsel must

belong,

For she looked with such a look and she spake with

such a tone,

That I almost received her heart into my own."

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1800.

POEMS ON THE NAMING OF PLACES.

By persons resident in the country and attached to rural objects, many places will be found unnamed or of unknown names, where little Incidents must have occurred, or feelings been experienced, which will have given to such places a private and peculiar interest. From a wish to give some sort of record to such Incidents, and renew the gratification of such feelings, Names have been given to Places by the Author and some of his Friends, and the following Poems written in consequence.

I.

It was an April morning: fresh and clear
The Rivulet, delighting in its strength,

Ran with a young man's speed; and yet the voice
Of waters which the winter had supplied

Was softened down into a vernal tone.

The spirit of enjoyment and desire,

And hopes and wishes, from all living things.

5

Went circling, like a multitude of sounds.
The budding groves seemed eager to urge on
The steps of June; as if their various hues
Were only hindrances that stood between

Them and their object : but, meanwhile, prevailed
Such an entire contentment in the air
That every naked ash, and tardy tree

Yet leafless, showed as if the countenance
With which it looked on this delightful day
Were native to the summer.

- Up the brook
I roamed in the confusion of my heart,
Alive to all things and forgetting all.
At length I to a sudden turning came
In this continuous glen, where down a rock
The Stream, so ardent in its course before,
Sent forth such sallies of glad sound, that all
Which I till then had heard, appeared the voice
Of common pleasure: beast and bird, the lamb,
The shepherd's dog, the linnet and the thrush
Vied with this waterfall, and made a song,
Which, while I listened, seemed like the wild growth
Or like some natural produce of the air,
That could not cease to be.

Green leaves were here;

But 't was the foliage of the rocks the birch,
The yew, the holly, and the bright green thorn,
With hanging islands of resplendent furze :
And, on a summit, distant a short space,
By any who should look beyond the dell,
A single mountain-cottage might be seen.

I gazed and gazed, and to myself I said,

१९

Our thoughts at least are ours; and this wild nook,

My EMMA, I will dedicate to thee."

Soon did the spot become my other home,

My dwelling, and my out-of-doors abode.

And, of the Shepherds who have seen me there,
To whom I sometimes in our idle talk

Have told this fancy, two or three, perhaps,
Years after we are gone and in our graves,
When they have cause to speak of this wild place,
May call it by the name of EMMA'S DELL.

II.

1800.

TO JOANNA.

AMID the smoke of cities did you pass

The time of early youth; and there you learned,
From years of quiet industry, to love

The living Beings by your own fireside,

With such a strong devotion, that your heart

Is slow to meet the sympathies of them

Who look upon the hills with tenderness,

And make dear friendships with the streams and groves.
Yet we, who are transgressors in this kind,

Dwelling retired in our simplicity

Among the woods and fields, we love you well,
Joanna and I guess, since you have been

So distant from us now for two long years,

That you will gladly listen to discourse,
However trivial, if you thence be taught
That they, with whom you once were happy, talk
Familiarly of you and of old times.

While I was seated, now some ten days past,
Beneath those lofty firs, that overtop
Their ancient neighbour, the old steeple-tower,
The Vicar from his gloomy house hard by

Came forth to greet me; and when he had asked,
"How fares Joanna, that wild-hearted Maid!

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20

And when will she return to us? he paused;
And, after short exchange of village news,
He with grave looks demanded, for what cause,
Reviving obsolete idolatry,

I, like a Runic Priest, in characters

Of formidable size had chiselled out
Some uncouth name upon the native rock,
Above the Rotha, by the forest-side.

Now, by those dear immunities of heart
Engendered between malice and true love,
I was not loth to be so catechised,
And this was my reply: — " As it befell,
One summer morning we had walked abroad
At break of day, Joanna and myself.

'T was that delightful season when the broom, Full-flowered, and visible on every steep,

Along the copses runs in veins of gold.

Our pathway led us on to Rotha's banks;

And when we came in front of that tall rock

That eastward looks, I there stopped short- and stood

Tracing the lofty barrier with my eye

From base to summit; such delight I found

45

To note in shrub and tree, in stone and flower
That intermixture of delicious hues,

Along so vast a surface, all at once,

In one impression, by connecting force

Of their own beauty, imaged in the heart.

50

- When I had gazed perhaps two minutes' space, Joanna, looking in my eyes, beheld

That ravishment of mine, and laughed aloud.

The Rock, like something starting from a sleep,
Took up the Lady's voice, and laughed again;
That ancient Woman seated on Helm-crag

Was ready with her cavern; Hammar-scar,

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