"The Muse nae Poet ever fand her,
Till by himsel' he learned to wander,
Adown some trotting burn's meander,
AND NA' THINK LANG."

Page 600

'There bloomed the strawberry of the
wilderness,

The trembling eyebright showed her sapph-
ire blue.'

These two lines are in a great measure
taken from The Beauties of Spring, a
Juvenile Poem," by the Rev. Joseph Symp-

son.

He was a native of Cumberland, and
was educated in the vale of Grasmere, and
at Hawkshead school: his poems are little
known, but they contain passages of
splendid description; and the versification
of his "Vision of Alfred" is harmonious
and animated. In describing the motions
of the Sylphs that constitute the strange
machinery of his Poem, he uses the following
illustrative simile:-

- "Glancing from their plumes
A changeful light the azure vault illumes.
Less varying hues beneath the Pole adorn
The streamy glories of the Boreal morn,
That wavering to and fro their radiance shed
On Bothnia's gulf with glassy ice o'erspread.
Where the lone native, as he homeward glides,
On polished sandals o'er the imprisoned tides,
And still the balance of his frame preserves,
Wheeled on alternate foot in lengthening curves,
Sees at a glance, above him and below,

Two rival heavens with equal splendour glow.
Sphered in the centre of the world he seems;
For all around with soft effulgence gleams;
Stars, moons, and meteors, ray opposed to ray,
And solemn midnight pours the blaze of day."

He was a man of ardent feeling, and his
faculties of mind, particularly his memory,
were extraordinary. Brief notices of his
life ought to find a place in the History of
Westmoreland.

Page 603. Sonnets XVII and XVIII
The EAGLE requires a large domain for
its support: but several pairs, not many
years ago, were constantly resident in this
country, building their nests in the steeps
of Borrowdale, Wastdale, Ennerdale, and
on the eastern side of Helvellyn. Often
have I heard anglers speak of the grandeur
of their appearance, as they hovered over

Red Tarn, in one of the coves of this
mountain. The bird frequently returns,
but is always destroyed. Not long since,
one visited Rydal lake, and remained some
hours near its banks: the consternation
which it occasioned among the different
species of fowl, particularly the herons, was
expressed by loud screams. The horse
also is naturally afraid of the eagle.-There
were several Roman stations among these
mountains; the most considerable seems to
have been in a meadow at the head of
Windermere, established, undoubtedly, as
a check over the passes of Kirkstone, Dun-
mail-raise, and of Hardknot and Wrynose.
On the margin of Rydal lake, a coin of
Trajan was discovered very lately.-The
ROMAN FORT here alluded to, called by
the country people "Hardknot Castle," is
most impressively situated half-way down
the hill on the right of the road that
descends from Hardknot into Eskdale. It
has escaped the notice of most antiquarians,
and is but slightly mentioned by Lysons. -
The DRUIDICAL CIRCLE is about half a
mile to the left of the road ascending Stone-
side from the vale of Duddon: the country
people call it "Sunken Church."

The reader who may have been interested
in the foregoing Sonnets (which together
may be considered as a Poem) will not be
displeased to find in this place a prose
account of the Duddon, extracted from
Green's comprehensive Guide to the Lakes,
lately published. "The road leading from
Coniston to Broughton is over high ground,
and commands a view of the River Dud-
don; which, at high water, is a grand
sight, having the beautiful and fertile lands
of Lancashire and Cumberland stretching
each way from its margin. In this exten-
sive view, the face of nature is displayed in
a wonderful variety of hill and dale, wooded
grounds and buildings; amongst the latter
Broughton Tower, seated on the crown of
a hill, rising elegantly from the valley, is
an object of extraordinary interest. Fer-
tility on each side is gradually diminished,
and lost in the superior heights of Black-
comb, in Cumberland, and the high lands
between Kirkby and Ulverstone.

After all, the traveller would be most
gratified who should approach this beauti-
ful Stream, neither at its source, as is done
in the Sonnets, nor from its termination;
but from Coniston over Walna Scar; first
descending into a little circular valley, a
collateral compartment of the long winding
vale through which flows the Duddon.
This recess, towards the close of September,
when the after-grass of the meadows is still
of a fresh green, with the leaves of many of
the trees faded, but perhaps none fallen, is
truly enchanting. At a point elevated
enough to show the various objects in the
valley, and not so high as to diminish their
importance, the stranger will instinctively
halt. On the foreground, a little below the
most favourable station, a rude foot-bridge
is thrown over the bed of the noisy brook
foaming by the wayside. Russet and
craggy hills, of bold and varied outline,
surround the level valley, which is be-
sprinkled with grey rocks plumed with birch
trees. A few homesteads are interspersed,
in some places peeping out from among the
rocks like hermitages, whose site has been
chosen for the benefit of sunshine as well
as shelter; in other instances, the dwelling-
house, barn, and byre, compose together a
cruciform structure, which, with its embow-
ering trees, and the ivy clothing part of the
walls and roof like a fleece, call to mind the
remains of an ancient abbey. Time, in
most cases, and nature everywhere, have
given a sanctity to the humble works of
man that are scattered over this peaceful
retirement. Hence a harmony of tone and
colour, a consummation and perfection of
beauty, which would have been marred
had aim or purpose interfered with the
course of convenience, utility, or necessity.
This unvitiated region stands in no need of
the veil of twilight to soften or disguise its
features. As it glistens in the morning

sunshine, it would fill the spectator's heart
with gladsomeness. Looking from our
chosen station, he would feel an impatience
to rove among its pathways, to be greeted
by the milkmaid, to wander from house to
house exchanging "good-morrows" as he
passed the open doors; but, at evening,
when the sun is set, and a pearly light
gleams from the western quarter of the
sky, with an answering light from the
smooth surface of the meadows; when the
trees are dusky, but each kind still dis-
tinguishable; when the cool air has con-
densed the blue smoke rising from the
cottage chimneys; when the dark mossy
stones seem to sleep in the bed of the
foaming brook; then he would be un-
willing to move forward, not less from a
reluctance to relinquish what he beholds,
than from an apprehension of disturbing,
by his approach, the quietness beneath
him. Issuing from the plain of this valley,
the brook descends in a rapid torrent pass-
ing by the churchyard of Seathwaite.
The traveller is thus conducted at once into
the midst of the wild and beautiful scenery
which gave occasion to the Sonnets from
the 14th to the 20th inclusive. From the
point where the Seathwaite brook joins the
Duddon is a view upwards into the pass
through which the river makes its way into
the plain of Donnerdale. The perpendicu

lar rock on the right bears the ancient
British name of THE PEN; the one opposite
is called WALLA-Barrow CRAG, a name
that occurs in other places to designate
rocks of the same character. The chaotic
aspect of the scene is well marked by the
expression of a stranger, who strolled out
while dinner was preparing, and at his re-
turn, being asked by his host, "What way
he had been wandering?" replied, "As far
as it is finished!"

The bed of the Duddon is here strewn
with large fragments of rocks fallen from
aloft; which, as Mr. Green truly says,
"are happily adapted to the many-shaped
waterfalls' (or rather waterbreaks, for
none of them are high) "displayed in the
short space of half a mile." That there is
some hazard in frequenting these desolate
places, I myself have had proof; for one
night an immense mass of rock fell upon
the very spot where, with a friend, I had

Serving no haughty Muse, my hands have here, 766

Seven Daughters had Lord Archibald, 208
Shade of Caractacus, if spirits love, 782

Shame on this faithless heart! that could allow, 580

She dwelt among the untrodden ways, 114
She had a tall man's height or more, 169
She was a Phantom of delight, 205
Shout, for a mighty Victory is won, 202
Show me the noblest Youth of present time, 659
Shun not this Rite, neglected, yea abhorred, 636
Since risen from ocean, ocean to defy, 719,
Six changeful years have vanished since I first,
280

Six months to six years added he remained, 746
Six thousand veterans practised in war's game,

Son of my buried Son, while thus thy hand, 766
Soon did the Almighty Giver of all rest, 403
Spade with which Wilkinson hath tilled his
lands, 211

Stay, bold Adventurer; rest awhile thy limbs, 407
Stay, little cheerful Robin! stay, 774
Stay near me-do not take thy flight, 170
Stern Daughter of the Voice of God, 213
Strange fits of passion have I known, 114
Stranger! this hillock of mis-shapen stones, 155
Stretched on the dying Mother's lap, lies dead,

724

Such age how beautiful! O Lady bright, 657
Such fruitless questions may not long beguile, 602
Surprised by joy-impatient as the Wind, 546
Sweet Flower! belike one day to have, 216
Sweet Highland Girl, a very shower, 191
Sweet is the holiness of Youth-so felt, 625
Swiftly turn the murmuring wheel, 406
Sylph was it? or a Bird more bright, 703

TAKE, cradled Nursling of the mountain, take, 600
Tax not the royal Saint with vain expense, 639
Tell me, ye Zephyrs! that unfold, 644
Tenderly do we feel by Nature's law, 767
Thanks for the lessons of this Spot-fit school, 721
That happy gleam of vernal eyes, 664

That heresies should strike (if truth be scanned, 611

That is work of waste and ruin, 172

That way look, my Infant, lo, 209.

The Baptist might have been ordained to cry, 760 The Bard-whose soul is meek as dawning day, 556

The captive Bird was gone ;-to cliff or moor, 719 The cattle crowding round this beverage clear,

791

The gentlest Shade that walked Elysian plains, 188

The God of Love-ah, benedicite! 160
The imperial Consort of the Fairy-king, 574
The imperial Stature, the colossal stride, 656
The Kirk of Ulpha to the pilgrim's eye, 606
The Knight had ridden down from Wensley
Moor, 147,

The Land we from our fathers had in trust, 388 The leaves that rustled on this oak-crowned hill, 731

The leaves were fading when to Esthwaite's banks, 270

The linnet's warble, sinking towards a close, 730 -The little hedge-row birds, 98

The lovely Nun (submissive, but more meek, 623 The Lovers took within this ancient grove, 699 The martial courage of a day is vain, 390

The massy Ways, carried across these heights, 651

The Minstrels played their Christmas tune, 598
The most alluring clouds that mount the sky, 774
The old inventive Poets, had they seen, 603
The oppression of the tumult-wrath and scorn,

612

The peace which others seek they find, 207
The pensive Sceptic of the lonely vale, 512
The pibroch's note, discountenanced or mute,
695

The post-boy drove with fierce career, 168
The power of Armies is a visible thing, 398
The prayers I make will then be sweet indeed,

212

There are no colours in the fairest sky, 630
There is a bondage worse, far worse, to bear, 200
There is a change-and I am poor, 347
There is a Flower, the lesser Celandine, 212
There is a little unpretending Rill, 578
There is an Eminence,-of these our hills, 143
There is a pleasure in poetic pains, 656
There is a Thorn-it looks so old, 76

There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale, 187
There never breathed a man who, when his life,

The Roman Consul doomed his sons to die, 767 The Sabbath bells renew the inviting peal, 636 The saintly Youth has ceased to rule, discrowned, 626

579

The star which comes at close of day to shine, 770
The struggling Rill insensibly is grown, 601
The sun has long been set, 178

The sun is couched, the sea-fowl gone to rest, 710
The Sun, that seemed so mildly to retire, 710
The sylvan slopes with corn-clad fields, 577
The tears of man in various measure gush, 626
The troop will be impatient; let us hie, 35
The turbaned Race are poured in thickening
swarms, 617

The unremitting voice of nightly streams, 794
The valley rings with mirth and joy, 138

The Vested Priest before the Altar stands, 635
The Virgin Mountain, wearing like a Queen, 628
The Voice of Song from distant lands shall call,

180

The wind is now thy organist ;-a clank, 694
The woman-hearted Confessor prepares, 617
The world forsaken, all its busy cares, 758
The world is too much with us, late and soon, 353
They call Thee Merry England, in old time, 711
They dreamt not of a perishable home, 640
The Young-ones gathered in from hill and dale,
634

They seek, are sought; to daily battle led, 397
They-who have seen the noble Roman's scorn,

754

This Height a ministering Angel might select, 407 This Land of Rainbows spanning glens whose walls, 695

This Lawn, a carpet all alive, 673

This Spot-at once unfolding sight so fair, 767
Those breathing Tokens of your kind regard, 669
Those had given earliest notice, as the lark, 622
Those old credulities, to nature dear, 754
Those silver clouds collected round the sun, 576
Those words were uttered as in pensive mood, 353
Though I beheld at first with blank surprise, 771
Though joy attend Thee orient at the birth, 698
Though many suns have risen and set, 650
Though narrow be that old Man's cares, and near,
363

Tho' searching damps and many an envious flaw, 589

Though the bold wings of Poesy affect, 791 Though the torrents from their fountains, 151 Though to give timely warning and deter, 768 Thou look'st upon me, and dost fondly think, 712 Thou sacred Pile! whose turrets rise, 588

Threats come which no submission may assuage, 623

Three years she grew in sun and shower, 115 Through shattered galleries, 'mid roofless halls, 646

Thus all things lead to Charity, secured, 638 Thus far, O Friend! have we, though leaving

much, 243

Thus is the storm abated by the craft, 622 Thy functions are ethereal, 665

'Tis eight o'clock,-a clear March night, 88 'Tis gone-with old belief and dream, 663 'Tis He whose yester-evening's high disdain, 765 'Tis not for the unfeeling, the falsely refined, 202 'Tis said, fantastic ocean doth unfold, 581 'Tis said, that some have died for love, 150 'Tis said that to the brow of yon fair hill, 674 'Tis spent-this burning day of June, 225 To a good Man of most dear memory, 739 To appease the Gods; or public thanks to yield, 593

To barren heath, bleak moor, and quaking fen,

UNDER the shadow of a stately Pile, 760
Ungrateful Country, if thou e'er forget, 631
Unless to Peter's Chair the viewless wind, 618
Unquiet childhood here by special grace, 657
Untouched through all severity of cold, 704
Up, Timothy, up with your staff and away, 150
Up to the throne of God is borne, 731

Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books, 85
Up with me! up with me into the clouds, 213
Urged by Ambition, who with subtlest skill, 616
Uttered by whom, or how inspired-designed, 584
VALLOMBROSA! I longed in thy shadiest wood,

Wanderer! that stoop'st so low, and com'st so near, 737

Wansfell! this Household has a favoured lot, 782 Ward of the Law!-dread Shadow of a King, 579 Was it to disenchant, and to undo, 582

Was the aim frustrated by force or guile, 573
Watch, and be firm! for, soul-subduing vice, 611
Weak is the will of Man, his judgment blind, 544
We can endure that He should waste our lands,
392

Weep not, beloved Friends! nor let the air, 393
We had a female Passenger who came, 180
We have not passed into a doleful City, 723
Well have yon Railway Labourers to THIS ground,
787

Well may'st thou halt-and gaze with brightening

We walked along, while bright and red, 118
What aim had they, the Pair of Monks, in size,
758

What aspect bore the Man who roved or fled,

601

What awful perspective! while from our sight,
639

What beast in wilderness or cultured field, 622
What beast of chase hath broken from the cover,

592

What crowd is this? what have we here! we must
not pass it by, 349

What heavenly smiles! O Lady mine, 787
What He-who, 'mid the kindred throng, 537
What if our numbers barely could defy, 763
What is good for a bootless bene, 386
What know we of the Blest above, 586
What lovelier home could gentle Fancy choose,
582

What mischief cleaves to unsubdued regret, 729
What need of clamorous bells, or ribands gay,
406

What sounds are those, Helvellyn, that are heard,

290

What strong allurement draws, what spirit guides,
764

What though the Accused, upon his own appeal,
671

What though the Italian pencil wrought not here,
585

What way does the Wind come? What way does
he go, 357

What, you are stepping westward ?-Yea, 192
When Alpine Vales threw forth a suppliant cry,
631

Whence that low voice?-A whisper from the
heart, 604

When Contemplation, like the night-calm felt,
263

When, far and wide, swift as the beams of morn,

702

While Anna's peers and early playmates tread,
656

While beams of orient light shoot wide and high,
784

While flowing rivers yield a blameless sport, 574
While from the purpling east departs, 649
While Merlin paced the Cornish sands, 681
While not a leaf seems faded; while the fields, 543
While poring Antiquarians search the ground,
744

While the Poor gather round, till the end of time,
700

While thus from theme to theme the Historian
passed, 498

Who but hails the sight with pleasure, 566
Who but is pleased to watch the moon on high,

793

Who comes-with rapture greeted, and caressed,
630

Who fancied what a pretty sight, 187.

Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he, 345
Who ponders National events shall find, 775
Who rashly strove thy Image to portray, 743
Who rises on the banks of Seine, 554

Who swerves from innocence, who makes divorce,
606

Who weeps for strangers? Many wept, 387
Why art thou silent! Is thy love a plant, 745
Why cast ye back upon the Gallic shore, 595
Why, Minstrel, these untuneful murmurings, 654
Why should the Enthusiast, journeying through
this Isle, 711

Why should we weep or mourn,-Angelic boy, 792
Why sleeps the future, as a snake enrolled, 640
Why stand we gazing on the sparkling Brine, 717
Why, William, on that old grey stone, 85
Wild Redbreast! hadst thou at Jemima's lip, 658
Wisdom and Spirit of the universe, 112
With copious eulogy in prose or rhyme, 688
With each recurrence of this glorious morn, 575
With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the

sky. 353

Within her gilded cage confined, 648

Within our happy Castle there dwelt One, 183
Within the mind strong fancies work, 567
With little here to do or see, 185

With sacrifice before the rising morn, 530
With ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh,

354