Written at Town-end, Grasmere. I remember the instant my sister, S. H., called me to the window of our Cottage, saying, "Look how beautiful is yon star! It has the sky all to itself." I composed the verses immediately.

It is no Spirit who from heaven hath flown,
And is descending on his embassy;
Nor Traveller gone from earth the heavens
to espy

'Tis Hesperus - there he stands with glit tering crown,

First admonition that the sun is down!
For yet it is broad day-light; clouds pass
by;

A few are near him still and now the sky,
He hath it to himself 't is all his own.
O most ambitious Star! an inquest wrought
Within me when I recognised thy light;
A moment I was startled at the sight:
And, while I gazed, there came to me a

thought

That I might step beyond my natural race As thou seem'st now to do; might one day

trace

Some ground not mine; and, strong her strength above,

My Soul, an Apparition in the place,
Tread there with steps that no one shall

reprove!

I

DEPARTURE FROM THE VALE OF GRASMERE

AUGUST 1803

1803. 1827

THE gentlest Shade that walked Elysian plains

Might sometimes covet dissoluble chains; Even for the tenants of the zone that lies Beyond the stars, celestial Paradise, Methinks 't would heighten joy, to overleap At will the crystal battlements, and peep Into some other region, though less fair, To see how things are made and managed

there.

Change for the worse might please, incur

sion bold

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Into the tracts of darkness and of cold;
O'er Limbo lake with aëry flight to steer,
And on the verge of Chaos hang in fear.
Such animation often do I find,
Power in my breast, wings growing in my
mind,

Then, when some rock or hill is overpast,
Perchance without one look behind me cast.
Some barrier with which Nature, from the
birth

Of things, has fenced this fairest spot on earth.

O pleasant transit, Grasmere ! to resign Such happy fields, abodes so calm as thine;

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Not like an outcast with himself at strife; The slave of business, time, or care for life,

But moved by choice; or, if constrained in part,

Yet still with Nature's freedom at the heart;

To cull contentment upon wildest shores, And luxuries extract from bleakest moors; With prompt embrace all beauty to enfold, And having rights in all that we behold.

IV

TO THE SONS OF BURNS

AFTER VISITING THE GRAVE OF THEIR FATHER

1803. 1807

"The Poet's grave is in a corner of the church-yard. We looked at it with melancholy and painful reflections, repeating to each other his own verses

"Is there a man whose judgment clear,' etc."

Extract from the Journal of my Fellow-Traveller. 'MID crowded obelisks and urns

I sought the untimely grave of Burns;
Sons of the Bard, my heart still mourns
With sorrow true;

And more would grieve, but that it turns
Trembling to you!

Through twilight shades of good and ill
Ye now are panting up life's hill,

And more than common strength and skill
Must ye display;

If

ye

would give the better will Its lawful sway.

ΤΟ

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30

This delightful creature and her demeanour are particularly described in my Sister's Journal. The sort of prophecy with which the verses conclude has, through God's goodness, been realised; and now, approaching the close of my 73d year, I have a most vivid remembrance of her and the beautiful objects with which she was surrounded. She is alluded to in the Poem of "The Three Cottage Girls" among my Continental Memorials. In illustration of this class of poems I have scarcely anything to say beyond what is anticipated in my Sister's faithful and admirable Journal. SWEET Highland Girl, a very shower Of beauty is thy earthly dower! Twice seven consenting years have shed Their utmost bounty on thy head:

And these grey rocks; that household

lawn;

Those trees, a veil just half withdrawn;
This fall of water that doth make
A murmur near the silent lake;
This little bay; a quiet road
That holds in shelter thy Abode –
In truth together do ye seem
Like something fashioned in a dream;
Such Forms as from their covert peep
When earthly cares are laid asleep!
But, O fair Creature! in the light
Of common day, so heavenly bright,
I bless Thee, Vision as thou art,
I bless thee with a human heart;
God shield thee to thy latest years
Thee, neither know I, nor thy peers;
And yet my eyes are filled with tears.

!

1Ο

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With earnest feeling I shall pray
For thee when I am far away:
For never saw I mien, or face,
In which more plainly I could trace
Benignity and home-bred sense
Ripening in perfect innocence.
Here scattered, like a random seed,
Remote from men, Thou dost not need
The embarrassed look of shy distress,
And maidenly shamefacedness:
Thou wear'st upon thy forehead clear
The freedom of a Mountaineer:
A face with gladness overspread!
Soft smiles, by human kindness bred!
And seemliness complete, that sways
Thy courtesies, about thee plays;
With no restraint, but such as springs
From quick and eager visitings
Of thoughts that lie beyond the reach
Of thy few words of English speech:
A bondage sweetly brooked, a strife
That gives thy gestures grace and life!
So have I, not unmoved in mind,
Seen birds of tempest-loving kind -
Thus beating up against the wind.
What hand but would a garland cull
For thee who art so beautiful?
O happy pleasure! here to dwell
Beside thee in some heathy dell;
Adopt your homely ways, and dress,
A Shepherd, thou a Shepherdess!
But I could frame a wish for thee
More like a grave reality:

Thou art to me but as a wave
Of the wild sea; and I would have
Some claim upon thee, if I could,
Though but of common neighbourhood.
What joy to hear thee, and to see!
Thy elder Brother I would be,

Thy Father-anything to thee!

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40

50

60

Now thanks to Heaven! that of its

grace

Hath led me to this lonely place.

Joy have I had; and going hence
I bear away my recompence.
In spots like these it is we prize
Our Memory, feel that she hath eyes:
Then, why should I be loth to stir?
I feel this place was made for her;
To give new pleasure like the past,
Continued long as life shall last.
Nor am I loth, though pleased at heart,
Sweet Highland Girl! from thee to part:
For I, methinks, till I grow old,

As fair before me shall behold,

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