V.

they are of the sky,

And from our earthly memory fade away.'

THESE words were uttered as in pensive mood
We turned, departing from that solemn sight:
A contrast and reproach to gross delight,
And life's unspiritual pleasures daily wooed!
But now upon this thought I cannot brood;
It is unstable as a dream of night ;

Nor will I praise a cloud, however bright,
Disparaging Man's gifts, and proper food.
Grove, isle, with every shape of sky-built dome,
Though clad in colours beautiful and pure,
Find in the heart of man no natural home:
The immortal Mind craves objects that endure:
These cleave to it; from these it cannot roam,
Nor they from it: their fellowship is secure.

VI.

SEPTEMBER, 1815.

WHILE not a leaf seems faded; while the fields,
With ripening harvest prodigally fair,

In brightest sunshine bask; this nipping air,
Sent from some distant clime where Winter wields

His icy scimitar, a foretaste yields

Of bitter change, and bids the flowers beware;

And whispers to the silent birds, "Prepare Against the threatening foe your trustiest shields." For me, who under kindlier laws belong

To Nature's tuneful quire, this rustling dry

Through leaves yet green, and yon crystalline sky, Announce a season potent to renew,

Mid frost and snow, the instinctive joys of song,

And nobler cares than listless summer knew.

VII.

NOVEMBER 1.

How clear, how keen, how marvellously bright

The effluence from yon distant mountain's head,
Which, strewn with snow smooth as the sky can shed,
Shines like another sun-on mortal sight

Uprisen, as if to check approaching Night,

And all her twinkling stars. Who now would tread, If so he might, yon mountain's glittering headTerrestrial, but a surface, by the flight

Of sad mortality's earth-sullying wing,

Unswept, unstained? Nor shall the aërial Powers
Dissolve that beauty, destined to endure,
White, radiant, spotless, exquisitely pure,

Through all vicissitudes, till genial Spring

Has filled the laughing vales with welcome flowers.

VIII.

COMPOSED DURING A STORM.

ONE who was suffering tumult in his soul

Yet failed to seek the sure relief of

prayer,

Went forth his course surrendering to the care
Of the fierce wind, while mid-day lightnings prowl
Insidiously, untimely thunders growl;

While trees, dim-seen, in frenzied numbers, tear
The lingering remnant of their yellow hair,

And shivering wolves, surprised with darkness, howl
As if the sun were not. He raised his eye
Soul-smitten; for, that instant, did appear

Large space (mid dreadful clouds) of purest sky,
An azure disc-shield of Tranquillity;

Invisible, unlooked-for, minister

Of providential goodness ever nigh!

IX.

TO A SNOW-DROP.

LONE Flower, hemmed in with snows and white as they But hardier far, once more I see thee bend

Thy forehead, as if fearful to offend,

Like an unbidden guest. Though day by day,
Storms, sallying from the mountain-tops, way-lay
The rising sun, and on the plains descend;
Yet art thou welcome, welcome as a friend
Whose zeal outruns his promise! Blue-eyed May
Shall soon behold this border thickly set
With bright jonquils, their odours lavishing
On the soft west-wind and his frolic peers;
Nor will I then thy modest grace forget,
Chaste Snow-drop, venturous harbinger of Spring,
And pensive monitor of fleeting years!