Mine were my faults, and mine be their reward.
My whole life was a contest, since the day
That gave me being, gave me that which marred
The gift,
- a fate, or will that walked astray;
And I at times have found the struggle hard,
And thought of shaking off my bonds of clay:
But now I fain would for a time survive,
If but to see what next can well arrive./
Kingdoms and empires in my little day
I have outlived, and yet I am not old;
And when I look on this the petty spray
Of my own years of trouble, which have rolled
Like a wild bay of breakers, melts away;
Something - I know not what! — does still uphold
A spirit of slight patience; - not in vain,
Even for its own sake, do we purchase pain.
Perhaps the workings of defiance stir
or perhaps a cold despair,
Brought on when ills habitually recur —
Perhaps a kinder clime, or purer air,
(For even to this may change of soul refer,
And with light armour we may learn to bear,)
Have taught me a strange quiet, which was not The chief companion of a calmer lot.
I feel almost at times as I have felt
In happy childhood; trees, and flowers, and brooks, Which do remember me of where I dwelt
Ere my young mind was sacrificed to books,
Come as of yore upon me, and can melt
My heart with recognition of their looks;
And even at moments I could think I see
Some living thing to love- - but none like thee.
Here are the Alpine landscapes which create
A fund for contemplation; - to admire
Is a brief feeling of a trivial date;
But sometimes worthier do such scenes inspire;
Here to be lonely is not desolate,
For much I view which I could most desire,
And, above all, a lake I can behold
Lovelier, not dearer, than our own of old.
Oh that thou wert but with me! - but I grow
The fool of my own wishes, and forget
The solitude which I have vaunted so
Has lost its praise in this but one regret ;
There may be others which I less
may show
I am not of the plaintive mood, and yet
I feel an ebb in my philosophy,
And the tide rising in my altered eye.
I did remind thee of our own dear lake, By the old hall which may be mine no more. Leman's is fair; but think not I forsake The sweet remembrance of a dearer shore; The havoc Time must with my memory make Ere that or thou can fade these eyes before; Though, like all things which I have loved, they are Resigned for ever, or divided far.
The world is all before me; I but ask
Of Nature that with which she will comply -
It is but in her summer's sun to bask,
To mingle with the quiet of her sky,
To see her gentle face without a mask,
And never gaze on it with apathy.
She was my early friend, and now shall be
My sister till I look again on thee.
I can reduce all feelings but this one;
And that I would not; - for at length I see
Such scenes as those wherein my life begun.
The earliest even the only paths for me
Had I but sooner learnt the crowd to shun,
I had been better than I now can be ;
The passions which have torn me would have slept I had not suffered, and thou hadst not wept.
With false Ambition what had I to do?
Little with Love, and least of all with Fame?
And yet they came unsought, and with me grew,
And made me all which they can make — a name.
Yet this was not the end I did pursue;
Surely I once beheld a nobler aim.
But all is over-I am one the more
To baffled millions which have gone before.
And for the future, this world's future may
From me demand but little of my care;
I have outlived myself by many a day;
Having survived so many things that were;
My years have been no slumber, but the pray Of ceaseless vigils; for I had the share
Of life which might have filled a century, Before its fourth in time had passed me by.
And for the remnant which may be to come
I am content; and for the past I feel
Not thankless, for within the crowded sum
Of struggles, happiness at times would steal,
And for the present I would not benumb
My feelings farther. Nor shall I conceal
That with all this I still can look around,
And worship Nature with a thought profound.
For thee, my own sweet sister, in thy heart
I knew myself secure, as thou in mine!
We were and are I am, even as thou art -
Beings who ne'er each other can resign;
It is the same, together or apart,
From life's commencement to its slow decline We are entwined-let death come slow or fast, The tie which bound the first endures the last!
I HAD a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came, and went and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chilled into a selfish prayer for light:
And they did live by watchfires and the thrones,
The palaces of crowned kings- the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,
Were burnt for beacons ; cities were consumed,
And men were gathered round their blazing homes
To look once more into each other's face:
Happy were those who dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:
A fearful hope was all the world contained;
Forests were set on fire- - but hour by hour
They fell and faded — and the crackling trunks
Extinguished with a crash - and all was black.
The brows of men by the despairing light
Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
The flashes fell upon them; some lay down
And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled,
And others hurried to and fro, and fed
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