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Never before to human sight betrayed. How, with the muse's aid, her love attest? Lo, in the vale, the mists of evening spread! Ey planting on thy naked head the crest The visionary arches are not there, Of an imperial castle, which the plough Nor the green islands, nor the shining seas; Of ruin shall not touch. Innocent scheme ! Yet sacred is to me this mountain's head, That doth presume no more than to supply From which I havr been lifted on the breeze A grace the sinuous vale and roaring stream Or harmony, above all earthly care. Want, through neglect of hoar antiquity.
Rise, then, ye votive towers, and catch a UPON THE SIGHT OF A BEAUTIFUL
Of golden sunset, ere it fade and die I PICTURE (Painted by Sir G. H. Beaumont, Bart.)
TO SLEEP. PRAISED be the art whose subtle power could stay
O GENTLE sleep: do they belong to thee, Yon cloud, and fix it in that glorious shape : These twinklings of oblivion ! Thou dost Nor would permit the thin smoke to escape,
love Nor those bright sunbeams to forsake the To sit in meekness, like the brooding dove, day ;
[their way, A captive never wishing to be free. Which stopped that band of travellers on This tiresome night, O sleep! thou art to me Ere they were lost within the shady wood; Afly, that up and down himself doth shove And showed the bark upon the glassy flood Upon a fretful rivulet, now above For ever anchored in her sheltering bay.
Now on the water vexed with mockery. Soul-soothing art I which morning, noon- I have no pain that calls for patience, no ; tide even
Hence am I cross and peevish as a child ; Do serve with all their changeful pageantry: Am pleased by fits to have thee for my soe, Thou, with ambition modest yei sublime, Yet ever willing to be reconciled : Here, for the sight of mortal man, hast o gentle creature ! do not use me so, given
[time But once and deeply let me be beguiled. To one brief moment caught from fleeting The appropriate calm of blest eternity.
TO SLEEP. "Why, minstrel. these untuneful mur- A FLOCK of sheep that leisurely pass by, murings
[jar?" One after one ; the sound of rain, and bees Dull, flagging notes that with each other Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and " Think, gentle lady, of a harp so far
(pure sky; From its own country, and forgive the Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and strings."
By turns have all been thought of ; yet I lie A simple answer! but even so forth springs, Sleepless, and soon the small birds' melodies From the Castalian fountain of the heart, Must hear, first uttered from my orchard The poetry of life, and all that art
trees; Divine of words quickening insensate And the first cuckoo's melancholy cry. things.
Even thus last night, and two nights more, From the submissive necks of guiltless men I lay,
(stealth : Stretched on the block, the glittering axe And could not win thee, sleep! by any recoils ;
So do not let me wear to-night away : Sun, moon, and stars, allstruggle in the toils Without thee what is all the morning's Of mortal sympathy: what wonder then wealth? If the poor harp distempered music yields Come, blessed barrier betwixt day and day, To its sad lord, far from his native fields ? Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous
health ! AERIAL rock--whose solitary brow From this low threshold daily meets my
TO SLEEP. sight, When I step forth to hail the morning light; Fond words have oft been spoken to thee, Or quit the stars with lingering farewell - sleep!
[names ; how
And thou hast had thy store of tenderest Shall fancy pay to thee a grateful vow? The very sweetest words that fancy frames,
When thankfulness or heart is strong and
TO THE POET, JOHN DYER, deep! Dear bosom child we call thee, that dost BARD of the Fleece, whose skilful genius steep (tames made
bright; In rich reward all suffering ; balm that That work a living landscape fair and All anguish ; saint that evil thoughts and Nor hallowed less with musical delight
Than those soft scenes through which thy Takest away, and into souls dost creep, childhood strayed, Like tr a breeze from heaven, Shall I alone, Those southern tracts of Cambria, "deep I surely not a man ungently made,
embayed, Call thee worst tyrant by which flesh is crost? With green hills fenced, with ocean's Perverse, self-willed to own and to disown, murmur lulled," Mere slave of them who never for thee Though hasty fame hath many a chaplet prayed, (most ! culled
(shade Still last to come where thou art wanted For worthless crowns, while in the pensive
Of cold neglect she leaves thy head THE WILD DUCK'S NEST.
Yet pure and powerful minds, hearts meek The imperial consort of the fairy king A grateful few, shall love thy modest lay, Owns not a sylvan bower; or gorgeous cell Long as the shepherd's bleating flock shall With emerald floored, and with purpureal stray shell
O'er naked Snowdon's wide aerial waste; Ceilinged and roofed ; that is so fair a thing Long as the thrush shall pipe on Grongar As this low structure-for the tasks of Hill! spring
[swell Prepared by one who loves the buoyant Of the brisk waves, yet here consents to
ON THE DETRACTION WHICH FOLLOWED dwell ;
THE PUBLICATION OF A CERTAIN POEM. And spreads in steadfast peace her See Milton's sonnet, beginning “ A book was Words cannot paint the o'ershadowing yew- writ of late called "Tetrachordon.'" tree-bough,
Peter And dimly-gleaming nest,-a hollow crown A BOOK came forth of late, called Of golden leaves inlaid with silver down,
(good Fine as the mother's softest plumes allow : / Not negligent the style :- the matter?I gaze--and almost wish to lay aside
As aught that song record of Robin Hood; Humanity, weak slave of cumbrous pride! Or Roy, renowned through many a Scottish
But some (who brook these hackneyed WRITTEN UPON A BLANK LEAF IN
themes full well,
Nor heat at Tam o'Slanter's name their While flowing rivers yield a blameless Waxed wroth, and with foul claws, a harpy
[benign! Shall live the name of Walton;
On bard and hero clamorously fell.
sage Whose pen, the mysteries of the rod and line Heed not, wild rover once through heath Unsolding, did not fruitlessly cxhort
(choice, To reverend watching of each still report
Who mad'st at length the better life thy That nature utters from her rural shrine.
Heed not such onset ! nay, if praise of men Meek, nobly versed in simple discipline,
To thee appear not an unmeaning voice, He found the longest summer day too
Lift up that gray-haired forehead, and short,
rejoice To his loved pastime given by sedgy Lee,
In the just tribute of thy poet's pen! Or down the tempting maze of Shawford brook!
TO THE RIVER DERWENT. Fairer than life itself, in this sweet book, The cowslip bank and shady willow tree, AMONG the mountains were we nursed, And the fresh meads; where flowed from loved stream!
(sai!, every nook
Thou, near the eagle's nest—within brief Of his full bosom, gladsome piely! 1, of his bold wing floating on the gale,
" THE COMPLETE ANGLER.
Where thy deep voice could lull me!-
TO S. H. Faint the beam Of human life when first allowed to gleam Excuse is needless when with love sincere On mortal notice.-Glory of the vale, (frail Of occupation, not by fashion led, Such thy meek outset, with a crown though Thou turn st the wheel that slept with Kept in perpetual verdure by the steam dust o erspread; Of thy soft breath!- Less vivid wreath My nerves from no such murmur, shrinkentwined
(worn, though near, Nemæan victor's brow ; less bright was Soft as the dorhawk's to a distant ear, Meed of some Roman chief-in triumph When twilight shades bedim the mountain's borne [his car head.
(thread With captives chained ; and shedding from She who was seigned to spin our vital The sunset splendours of a finished war Might smile, O lady ! on a task once dear Upon the proud enslavers of mankind ! To household virtues. Venerable art,
Torn from the poor ! yet will kind Heaven
protect COMPOSED IN ONE OF THE VALLEYS OF Its own, not left without a guiding chart,
WESTMORELAND ON EASTER SUNDAY. If rulers, trusting with undue respect
To proud discoveries of the intellect,
DECAY OF PIETY. Put on fresh raiment-till that hour unworn; OFT have I seen, ere time had ploughed Domestic hands the home-bred wool had
(fleece. Matrons and sires-who, punctual to the And she who span it culled the daintiest Of their loved church, on fast or festival In thoughtful reverence to the Prince of Through the long year the house of prayer Peace.
would seek : Whose temples bled beneath the platted By Christmas snows, by visitation bleak A blest estate when piety sublime
Of Easter winds, unscared, from hut or hall These humble props disdained not! 0 They came to lowly bench or sculptured green dales
stall, Sad may be who heard your Sabbath chime But with one fervour of devotion meek. When art's abused inventions were un. I see the places where theyonce were known, known;
own ; And ask, surrounded even by kneeling Kind nature's various wealth was all your
crowds, And benefits were weighed in reason's Is ancient piety for ever flown? scales !
Alas! even then they seemed like fleecy clouds
(have won GRIEF, thou hast lost an ever-ready friend That, struggling through the western sky, Now that the cottage spinning-wheel is Their pensive light from a departed sun !
mute : And care-a comforter that best could suit
OF Her froward mood, and softliest reprehenc ;
FRIEND, And love-a charmer's voice, that used to
VALE OF GRASMERE. lend, More efficaciously than aught that flows WHAT need of clamorous bells, or ribands From harp or lute, kind influence to gay, compose
These humble nuptials to proclaim or grace? The throbbing pulse, — else troubled Angels of love, look down upon the place, without end ;
(rest Shed on the chosen vale a sun-bright day! Even joy could tell, joy craving truce and Yet no proud gladness would the bride Froiri her own overflow, what power sedate display On those revolving motions did await Even for such promise ;-serious is her face. Assiduously, to soothe her aching breast- Modest her mien ; and she, whose thoughts And-to a point of just relief-abate
keep pace The gantling triumphs of a day too blest. With genileness, in that becoming way
Will thank you. Faultless doth the maid | That of its native self can nothing feed : appear,
Of good and pious works Thou art the No disproportion in her soul, no strife :
(may: But, when the closer view of wedded life That quickens only where Thou say'st it Hath shown that nothing human can be Unless Thou show to us Thine own true clear
(lead. From frailty, for that insight may the wife No man can find it. Father ! Thou must To her indulgent lord become more dear. Do Thou, then, breathe those thoughts into
my mind FROM THE ITALIAN OF MICHAEL ANGELO. By which such virtue may in me be bred
That in Thv holy footsteps 1 may tread; YES! hope may with my strong desire keep The fetters of my tongue do Thou unbind, pace,
That I may have the power to sing of Thee, And I be undeluded, unbetrayed ; And sound Thy praises everlastingly. For if of our affections none find grace In sight of Heaven, then, wherefore hath God made
SURPRISED by joy-impatient as the wind The world which we inhabit! Better plea I turned to share the transport-Oh! with Love cannot have, than that in loving thee
whom Glory to that eternal peace is paid,
But thee deep buried in the silent tomb, Who such divinity to thee imparts
That spot wtich no vicissitude can find, As hallows and makes pure all gentle Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my
(power, His hope is treacherous only whose love dies. Even for the least division of an hour.
But how could I forget thee? Through what With beauty, which is varying every hour; But, in chaste hearts uninfluenced by the Have I been so beguiled as to be blind power
To my most grievous loss 7- That thought's Or outward change, there blooms a death
return That breathes on earth the air of paradise. Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,
Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,
Knowing my heart's best treasure was no FROM THE SAME.
more ; No mortal object did these eyes behold That neither present time, nor years unborn When first they met the placid light of thine, Could to my sight that heavenly face restore. And my soul felt her destiny divine, And hope of endless peace in me grew bold: METHOUGHT I saw the footsteps of a throne Heaven-born, the soul a heaven-ward which mists and vapours from mine eyes course must hold ;
did shroudBeyond the visible world she soars to seek
Nor view of who might sit thereon allowed; (For what delights the sense is false and But all the steps and ground about were
weak) Ideal form, the universal mould.
With sights the ruefullest that flesh and bone The wise man, I affirm, can find no rest
Ever put on : a miserable crowd,
Sick, hale, old, young, who cried before
that cloud, depend. 'Tis sense, unbridled will, and not true I seem to mount those steps; the vapours
"Thou art our king, O Death ! to thee we love,
(best, That kills the soul : love betters what is Smooth way; and I beheld the face of one
gave Even here below, but more in heaven Sleeping alone within a mossy cave, above.
With her face up to heaven ; that seemed to have
(gone; Pleasing remembrance of a thought fore
A lovely beauty in a summer grave ! The prayers I make will then be sweet indeed
“Wear is the will of man, his judgment If Thou the spirit give by which I pray:
blind; My unassisted heart is barren clay. Remembrance persevutes, and hope betrays;
FROM THE SAME.
Heavy is woe :—and joy, for human-kind, A goodly vessel did I then espy
This ship to all the rest did I preter.
When will she turn, and whither? She 'Tis hers to pluck the amaranthine flower will brook
(must stir. Of Faith, and round the sufferers temples No tarrying ; where she comes ihe winds bind
(shower, On went she, -and due north her journey Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest took. And do not shrink írom sorrow's keenest wind.
The world is too much with us ; late and soon,
(powers: It is a beauteous evening, calm and free ; Getting and spending, we lay waste our The holy time is quiet as a nun
Little we see in nature that is ours; Breathless with adoration ; the broad sun We have given our hearts away, a sordid Is sinking down in its tranquillity ;
boon! The gentleness of heaven is on the sea : This sea that bares her bosom to the moon. Listen ! the mighty Being is awake, The winds that will be howling at all hours, And doth with His eternal motion make And are up-gathered now like sleeping A sound like thunder-everlastingly. Dear child! dear girl ! that walkest with For this, for every thing, we are out of tune , me here,
(thought, It moves us not.-Great God ! I'd rather be If thou appear'st untouched by solemn A pagan suckled in a creed outworn; Thy nature is not therefore less divine : So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year; Have glimpses that would make me less And worshipp'st at the temple's inner forlorn ; shrine,
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea ; God being with thee when we know it not. Or hear old Triton blow his wreathéd horn.
WHERE lies the land to which yon ship A VOLANT tribe of bards on earth are found, must go?
Who, while the flattering zephyrs round Festively she puts forth in trim array ;
(of clay ; As vigorous as a lark at break of day : On "coignes of vantage" hang their nests Is she for tropic suns, or polar snow? How quickly from that aery hold unbound, What boots the inquiry – Neither friend Dust for oblivion! To the solid ground nor foe
Of nature trusts the mind that builds for aye; She cares for; let her travel where she may, Convinced that there, there only, she can lay She finds familiar names, a beaten way Secure foundations. As the year runs round, Ever before her, and a wind to blow. Apart she toils within he chosen ring : Yet still I ask, what haven is her mark ? While the stars shine, or while day's purple And, almost as it was when ships were eye rare,
(and there Is gently closing with the flowers of spring; (From time to time, like pilgrims, here where even the motion of an angel's wing Crossing the waters) doubt, and something Would interrupt the intense tranquillity dark,
Of silent hills, and more than silent sky. Of the old sea some reverential fear, Is with me at thy farewell, joyous bark !
How sweet it is, when mother fancy rocks
The wayward brain, to saunter through a WITH ships the sea was sprinkled far and wood ! nigh,
An old place, full of many a lovely brood, Like stars in heaven, and joyously it showed; Tall trees, green arbours, and groundSome lying fast at anchor in the road,
flowers in flocks,
stocks, Some veering up and down, one knew not And wild rose tip-toe upon hawthorn why.
j Like a bold girl, who plays her agile pranks