Written at Rydal Mount. The incident of the trees growing and withering put the subject into my thoughts, and I wrote with the hope of giving it a loftier tone than, so far as I know, has been given to it by any of the Ancients who have treated of it. It cost me more trouble than almost anything of equal length I have ever written. (Wordsworth.) Laodamia is a very original poem; I mean original with reference to your own manner. You have nothing like it. I should have seen it in a strange place, and greatly admired it, but not suspected its derivation.. (Lamb to Wordsworth. Talfourd, Final Memories of Charles Lamb, p. 151.) "WITH sacrifice before the rising morn Vows have I made by fruitless hope inspired; And from the infernal Gods, 'mid shades forlorn Of night, my slaughtered Lord have I required: Celestial pity I again implore ;— Restore him to my sight-great Jove, restore!" So speaking, and by fervent love endowed With faith, the Suppliant heavenward lifts her hands; While, like the sun emerging from a cloud. Her countenance brightens-and her eye expands; Her bosom heaves and spreads, her stature grows; And she expects the issue in repose. O terror! what hath she perceived ?—O joy! What doth she look on ?--whom doth she behold? Her Hero slain upon the beach of Troy? His vital presence? his corporeal mould! It is--if sense deceive her not-'tis He? And a God leads him, wingéd Mercury! Mild Hermes spake--and touched her with his wand That calms all fear; "Such grace hath crowned thy prayer, Laodamía! that at Jove's command Thy Husband walks the paths of upper air: He comes to tarry with thee three hours' space; Accept the gift, behold him face to face! Forth sprang the impassioned Queen her Lord to clasp; Again that consummation she essayed; But unsubstantial Form eludes her grasp As often as that eager grasp was made, The Phantom parts--but parts to re-unite, And re-assume his place before her sight. "Protesiláus, lo! thy guide is gone! Confirm, I pray, the vision with thy voice: This is our palace,yonder is thy throne; Speak, and the floor thou tread'st on will rejoice. Not to appal me have the gods bestowed This precious boon; and blest a sad abode." "Great Jove, Laodamía! doth not leave His gifts imperfect :--Spectre though I be, I am not sent to scare thee or deceive; "Thou knowest, the Delphic oracle foretold That the first Greek who touched the Trojan strand Should die; but me the threat could not withhold; "Ah, wherefore?-Did not Hercules by force Wrest from the guardian Monster of the tomb Alcestis, a reanimated corse, Given back to dwell on earth in vernal bloom? Medea's spells dispersed the weight of years, And son stood a youth 'nid youthful .6 peers. The Gods to us are merciful--and they Yet further may relent: for mightier far Than strength of nerve and sinew, or the sway Of magic potent over sun and star, "But if thou goest, I follow-""Peace!" he said ; She looked upon him and was calmed and cheered; The ghastly color from his lips had fled; In his deportment, shape, and mien, ap-peared Elysian beauty, melancholy grace. Brought from a pensive though a happy place. He spake of love, such love as Spirits feel In worlds whose course is equable and way, And on the palace-floor a lifeless corse she lay. Thus, all in vain exhorted and reproved, She perished; and, as for a wilful crime, By the just Gods whom no weak pity moved, Was doomed to wear out her appointed time, Apart from happy Ghosts, that gather flowers Of blissful quiet 'mid unfading bowers. -Yet tears to human suffering are due; And mortal hopes defeated and o'erthrown Are mourned by man, and not by man alone, As fondly he believes.-Upon the side Of Hellespont (such faith was entertained) A knot of spiry trees for ages grew From out the tomb of him for whom she died; And ever, when such stature they had gained That Ilium's walls were subject to their view, The trees' tall summits withered at the sight: A constant interchange of growth and blight! 1814. 1815. YARROW VISITED SEPTEMBER, 1814 As mentioned in my verses on the death of the Ettrick Shepherd, my first visit to Yarrow was in his company. We had lodged the night before at Traquhair, where Hogg had joined us ... I seldom read or think of this poem without regretting that my dear Sister was not of the party, as she would have had so much delight in recalling the time when, travelling together in Scotland, we declined going in search of this celebrated stream, not altogether, I will frankly confess, for the reasons assigned in the poem on the occasion. (Wordsworth.) AND is this-Yarrow?-This the Stream O that some Minstrel's harp were near, And chase this silence from the air, Yet why?-a silvery current flows Is visibly delighted; For not a feature of those hills A blue sky bends o'er Yarrow vale, Though not unwilling here to admit Where was it that the famous Flower On which the herd is feeding: The Water-wraith ascended thrice- Delicious is the Lay that sings The path that leads them to the grove, The unconquerable strength of love; Bear witness, rueful Yarrow ! But thou, that didst appear so fair Dost rival in the light of day Meek loveliness is round thee spread, The grace of forest charms decayed, That region left, the vale unfolds pomp Of cultivated nature; And, rising from those lofty groves, The shattered front of Newark's Towers, Fair scenes for childhood's opening bloom, For sportive youth to stray in; Yon cottage seems a bower of bliss, Of tender thoughts, that nestle there- How sweet, on this autumnal day, I see-but not by sight alone, The vapors linger round the Heights, 1814. 1815. TO B. R. HAYDON B. R. Haydon, the painter, was for many years a friend of Wordsworth. On November 27, 1815, Haydon wrote: "I have benefited and have been supported in the troubles of life by your poetry. I will bear want, pain, misery, and blindness; but I will never yield one step I have gained on the road I am determined to travel over." Wordsworth's answer to this letter was the following sounet. HIGH is our calling, Friend !-Creative Art (Whether the instrument of words she |