« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »
That in their keeping it might lie, From beauty infinitely growing
Upon a mind with love o'erflowing ;
To sound the depths of every art
That seeks its wisdom through the heart?
Thus (where the intrusive pile, ill-graced
With baubles of theatric taste,
O'erlooks the torrent breathing showers
On motley bands of alien flowers,
In stiff confusion set or sown,
Till nature cannot find her own,
Or keep a remnant of the sod
Which Caledonian heroes trod)
I mused ; and, thirsting for redress,
Recoiled into the wilderness.
So faithfully, a waking dream?
An image that hath perished !
And chase this silence from the air,
That fills my heart with sadness!
With uncontrolled meanderings ;
Nor have these eyes by greener hills
Is visibly delighted ;
For not a feature of those hills
Save where that pearly whiteness
Is round the rising sun diffused,
Mild dawn of promise! that excludes
All profitless dejection ;
Where was it that the famous flower
And haply from this crystal pool,
Now peaceful as the morning.
Delicious is the lay that sings
The haunts of happy lovers,
The path that leads them to the grove,
| Yon cottage seems a bower of bliss, The leafy grove that covers :
A covert for protection And pity sanctifies the verse
Of tender thoughts that nestle there,
The brood of chaste affection.
How sweet, on this autumnal day,
And on my true love's forehead plant
And what if I enwreathed my own!
"Twere no offence to reason ; Her delicate creation :
The sober hills thus deck their brows
Loved Yarrow, have I won thee !
A ray of sancy still survivesThat region left, the vale unfolds
Her sunshine plays upon thee ! Rich groves of lofty stature,
Thy ever youthful waters keep With Yarrow winding through the pomp
A course of lively pleasure ; Of cultivated nature ;
And gladsome notes my lips can breathe And, rising from those lofty groves,
According to the measure.
The vapours linger round the heights,
They melt-and soon must vanish;
Sad thought, which I would banish,
Thy genuine image, Yarrow !
And cheer my mind in sorrow.
Poems on the Naming of places.
have given to such places a private and
peculiar interest. From a wish to give By persons resident in the country and at some sort of record to such incidents, or tached to rural objects, many places will be renew the gratification of such feelings. found unnamed or of unknown names, names have been given to places by the where little incidents must have occurred, author and some of his friends, and the or feelings been experienced, which will following poems written in consequence.
It was an April morning: fresh and clear. And hopes and wishes, from all living The rivulet, delighting in its strength,
things Ran with a young man's speed ; and yet Went circling, like a multitude of sounds. the voice
The budding groves appeared as if in haste Of waters which the winter had supplied To spur the steps of June; as if their Was softened down into a vernal tone.
shades The spirit of enjoyment and desire, Of various green were hindrances that stood
Between them and their object : yet, mean-, Is slow towards the sympathies of them while,
Who look upon the hills with tenderness, There was such deep contentment in the air, And make dear friendships with the streams That every naked ash and tardy tree
and groves. Yet leafiess, seemed as though the counte-Yet we, who are trangressors in this kind,
Dwelling retired in our simplicity With which it looked on this delightful day Among the woods and fields, we love you Were native to the summer.-Up the brook well, I roamed in the confusion of my heart, Joanna ! and I guess, since you have been Alive to all things and forgetting all.
So distant from us now for two long years, At length I to a sudden turning came That you will gladly listen to discourse In this continuous glen, where down a rock However trivial, if you thence are taught The stream, so ardent in its course before, That they, with whom you once were Sent forth such sallies of glad sound, that all happy, talk Which I till then had heard, appeared the Familiarly of you and of old times. voice
(lamb, Of common pleasure: beast and bird, the While I was seated, now some ten days The shepherd's dog, the linnet and the past, thrush
Beneath those lofty firs, that overtop Vied with this waterfall, and made a song Their ancient neighbour, the old steeple Which, while I listened, seemed like the wild tower, growth
The vicar from his gloomy house hard by Or like some natural produce of the air, Came forth to greet me ; and when ht had That could not cease to be. Green leaves asked,
(maid' were here;
“How fares Joanna; that wild-hearted Put 'twas the foliage of the rocks, the birch, And when will she return to us?" he The yew, the holly, and the bright green paused ; thorn,
And, after short exchange of village news. With hanging islands of resplendent furze : He with grave looks demanded, for what And on a summit, distant a short space,
Of formidable size had chiselled out "Our thoughts at least are ours; and this Some uncouth name upon the native rock, wild nook,
Above the Rotha, by the forest side. My Emma, I will dedicate to thee." Now by those dear immunities of heart Soon did the spot become my other home, Engendered betwixt malice and true love, My dwelling, and my out-of-doors abode. I was not loth to be so catechised, And, of the shepherds who have seen me And this was my reply :-"As it befel, there,
One summer morning we had walked To whom I sometimes in our idle talk
abroad Have told this fancy, two or three, perhaps, At break of day. Joanna and myself. Years after we are gone and in our graves. 'Twas that delightful season when the When they have cause to speak of this wild broom, place,
Full-flowered, and visible on every steep, May call it by the name of Emma's Dell. Along the copses runs in veins of gold.
Our pathway led us on to Rotha's banks ;
Which looks toward the east, I there stopped
And traced the lofty barrier with my eye AMID the smoke of cities did you pass
From base to summit ; such delight I found The time of early youth; and there you To note in shrub and tree, in stone and learned,
flower, From years of quiet industry, to love That intermixture of delicious hues, The living beings by your own fire-side, Along so vast a surface, all at once, With such a strong devotion, that your In one impression, by connecting force beart
Of their own beauty, imaged in the heart. M
When I had gazed perhaps two minutes And when at evening we pursue our walk space,
Along the public way, this clift, so high Joanna, looking in my eyes, beheld Above us, and so distant in its height, That ravishment of mine, and laughed | Is visible ; and often seems to send aloud.
(sleep, Its own deep quiet to restore our hearts. The rock, like something starting from a The meteors make of it a favourite haunt : Took up the lady's voice, and laughed The star of Jove, so beautiful and large again :
In the mid heavens, is never half so fair That ancient woman seated on Helm-Crag | As when he shines above it. 'Tis in iruth Was ready with her cavern : Hammer-Scar, The loneliest place we have among the And the tall steep of Silver-how, sent forth clouds.
(loved A noise of laughter ; southern Loughrigs And she who dwells with me, whom I have heard,
stone With such communion, that no place on And Fairfield answered with a mountain Can ever be a solitude to me, (earth Helvellyn far into the clear blue sky Hath to this lonely summit given my name. Carried the lady's voice, old Skiddaw blew
[clouds His speaking trumpet ;-back out of the Of Glaramara southward came the voice :
A NARROW girdle of rough stones and And Kirkstone tossed it from his misty head.
crags, Now whether (said I to our cordial friend, Between the water and a winding slope
A rude and natural causeway, interposed Who in the hey-day of astonishment Smiled in my face) this were in simple truth Of copse and thicket, leaves the eastern
shore A work accomplished by the brotherhood Of ancient mountains, or my ear was touched And
there, myself and two beloved friends,
Of Grasmere safe in its own privacy.
One calm September morning, ere the mist
Sauntered on this retired and difficult way. side The fair Joanna drew, as if she wished
Played with our time ; and, as we strolled To shelter from some object of her fear.
It was our occupation to observe (along, And hence, long afterwards, when eighteen Feather, or leaf, or weed, or withered
Such objects as the waves had tossed ashore, Were wasted, as I chanced to walk alone
bough, Beneath this rock, at sunrise, on a calm
Each on the other heaped, along the line And silent morning, I sat down, and there,
Of the dry wreck. And, in our vacant
mood. In memory of affections, old and true, I chiselled out in those rude characters
Not seldom did we stop to watch some tuft Joanna's name upon the living stone.
Of dandelion seed or thistle's beard, And I, and all who dwell by my fire-side,
That skimmed the surface of the dead
calm lake, Have called the lovely rock, Joanna's Suddenly halting now-a lifeless stand! Rock."
And starting off again with freak as
sudden; There is an eminence, -of these our hills Making report of an invisible breeze
In all its sportive wanderings, all the while, The last that parleys with the setting sun. We can behold it from our orchard-seat ;
That was its wings, its chariot, and its
* In Cumberland and Westmoreland are seve the head of the vale of Grasmere, is a rock ral inscriptions, upon the native rock, which, which from most points of view bears a striking from the wasting of time, and the rudeness of resemblance to an old woman cowering. Close the workmanship, have been mistaken for Runic. by this rock is one of those fissures of caverns, They are, without doubt, Roman
which in the language of the country are called The Rotha, mentioned in this poem, is the dungeons. Most of the mountains here men. river which, flowing through the lakes of Gras- tioned immediately surround the vale of Gras mere and Rydal, falls into Wynander -On mere ; of the others, some are at a considerable Helm-Crag. that impressive single mountain at distance, but they belong to the same cluster.
Its playmate, rather say its moving soul. What need there is to be reserved in And often, trifting with a privilege
speech, Alike indulged to all, we paused, one now. And iemper all our thoughts with charity. And now the other, to point out, per. Therefore, unwilling to forget that day, chance
My friend, myself, and she who then To pluck, some flower or water-weed, too received Either to be divided from the place (fair | The same admonishment, nave called ihe On which it grew, or to be left alone
place To its own beauty. Many such there are, By a memorial name, uncouth indeed Fair ferns and flowers, and chiefly that tall As e'er by mariner was given to bay tern,
Or foreland, on a new-discovered coast ; So stately, of the Queen Osmunda named; And Point Rash Judgment is the name it Piant lovelier in its own retired abode
bears. On Grasmere's beach, than naiad by the
Of Grecian brook, or lady of the mere,
TO M. H. Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance, So fared we that bright morning : from OUR walk was far among the ancient trees; the helds,
(mirth | There was no road, nor any woodman's Meanwhile, a noise was heard, the busy path ; of reapers, men and women, boys and But the thick umbrage, checking the wild girls.
growth Delighted much to listen to those sounds, Of weed and sapling, along soft green turf And feeding thus our fancies, we advanced Beneath the branches, of itseli had made Along the indented shore ; when suddenly, A track, that brought us to a slip of lawn, Through a thin veil of glittering haze was And a small bed of water in the woods.
All round this pool both flocks and herds Before us, on a point of jutting land,
might drink The tall and upright figure of a man On its firm margin, even as from a well, Atured in peasant's garb, who stood alone, Or some stone-basin which the herdsman's Angling beside the margin of the lake.
|did sun, Improvident and reckless, we exclaimed, Had shaped for their refreshment; nor The man must be, who thus can lose a Or wind from any quarter, ever come, day
(hire But as a blessing to this calm recess, of the mid-harvest, when the labourer's This glade of water and this one green Is ample, and some little might be stored field. Wherewith to cheer him in the winter time. The spot was made by nature for herself, Thus talking of that peasant, we ap- The travellers know it not, and 'twill proached
remain Close to the spot where with his rod and Unknown to them : but it is beautiful : line
[head And if a man should plant his cottage near Le siood alone; whereat be turned his Should sleep beneath the shelter of its To greet us—and we saw a man worn down trees, By sickness, gaunt and lean, with sunken And blend its waters with his daily meal, cheeks
(lean He would so love it, that in his death hour And wasted limbs, his legs so long and Its image would survive among his thoughis; Thai for my single self I looked at them, And therefore, my sweet Mary, this still Forgetful of the body they sustained. - nook,
you, Too weak to labour in the harvest field, With all its beeches, we have named from The man was using his best skill to gain A pittance from the dead unfeeling lake That knew not of his wants. I will not say What thoughts immediately were ours, nor When, to the attractions of the busy
world, The happy idleness of that sweet morn,
Preferring studious leisure, I had chosen With all its lovely images, was changed A habitation in this peaceful vale, To serious musing and to self-reproach. Sharp season followed of continual storm Nor did we fail to see within ourselves In deepest winter; and, from week to week,