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He paced along; and, pensively, Halting beneath a shady tree,

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Whose moss-grown root might serve for New heavens succeeded, by the dream

couch or seat,

Fixed on a star his upward eye;

Then, from the tenant of the sky

brought forth :

And all the happy souls that rode
Transfigured through that fresh abode,

He turned, and watched with kindred look, Had heretofore, in humble trust,

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Men and maidens wheel, They themselves make the reel, And their music's a prey which they seize; It plays not for them,-what matter? 'tis theirs; [cares, And if they had care, it has scattered their While they dance, crying, "Long as ye please!"

They dance not for me,
Yet mine is their glee!

Thus pleasure is spread through the earth
In stray gifts, to be claimed by whoever
shall find;
Thus a rich loving-kindness, redundantly
Moves all nature to gladness and mirth.

[kind,

The showers of the spring Rouse the birds, and they sing; If the wind do but stir for his proper delight, Each leaf, that and this, his neighbour will kiss; [his brother; Each wave, one and t'other, speeds after They are happy, for that is their right!

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"Gay sylphs this miniature will court, Made vocal by their brushing wings, And sullen gnomes will learn to sport Around its polished strings;

'Whence strains to love-sick maiden dear,
While in her lonely bower she tries
To cheat the thought she cannot cheer,
By fanciful embroideries.

"Trust, angry bard! a knowing sprite, Nor think the harp her lot deplores; Though 'mid the stars the lyre shines bright, Love stoops as fondly as he soars."

ADDRESS TO MY INFANT

DAUGHTER,

Happier, far happier is thy lot and ours!
Even now-To solemnize thy helpless state,
And to enliven in the mind's regard

ON BEING REMINDED, that she WAS A Thy passive beauty-parallels have risen,

MONTH OLD ON THAT DAY.

HAST thou then survived,

Mild offspring of infirm humanity,
Meek infant! among all forlornest things
The most forlorn, one life of that bright star,
The second glory of the heavens? Thou
hast:

Already hast survived that great decay; That transformation through the wide earth felt,

And by all nations. In that Being's sight
From whom the race of human kind proceed,
A thousand years are but as yesterday;
And one day's narrow circuit is to Him
Not less capacious than a thousand years.
But what is time? What outward glory?
Neither

A measure is of Thee, whose claims extend
Through heaven's eternal year."--Yet
hail to thee,
[methinks,
Frail, feeble monthling!-by that name.
Thy scanty breathing-time is portioned out
Not idly. Hadst thou been of Indian birth,
Couched on a casual bed of moss and leaves,
And rudely canopied by leafy boughs,
Or to the churlish elements exposed
On the blank plains,—the coldness of the
night,

Or the night's darkness, or its cheerful face
Of beauty, by the changing moon adorned,
Would, with imperious admonition, then
Have scored thine age, and punctually
timed

Thine infant history, on the minds of those Who might have wandered with thee.Mother's love,

Nor less than mother's love in other breasts, Will, among us warm clad and warmly housed,

Do for thee what the finger of the heavens
Doth all too often harshly execute
For thy unblest coevals, amid wilds
Where fancy hath small liberty to grace
The affections, to exalt them or.refine;
And the maternal sympathy itself,
Though strong, is, in the main, a joyless tie
Of naked instinct, wound about the heart.

Resemblances, or contrasts, that connect, Within the region of a father's thoughts, Thee and thy mate and sister of the sky. And first; thy sinless progress, through a world

By sorrow darkened and by care disturbed, Apt likeness bears to hers, through gathered clouds,

Moving untouched in silver purity, And cheering oft-times their reluctant gloom. [stain: Fair are ye both, and both are free from But thou, how leisurely thou fill'st thy horn With brightness ! leaving her to post along,

And range about-disquieted in change, And still impatient of the shape she wears. Once up, once down the hill, one journey, babe,

That will suffice thee; and it seems that now Thou hast fore-knowledge that such task is thine;

Thou travell'st so contentedly, and sleep'st In such a heedless peace. Alas! full soon Hath this conception, grateful to behold, Changed countenance, like an object sullied

o'er

By breathing mist! and thine appears to be A mournful labour, while to her is given Hope-and a renovation without end. That smile forbids the thought;-for on thy face [dawn,

Smiles are beginning, like the beams of To shoot and circulate;-smiles have there been seen,

Tranquil assurances that Heaven supports The feeble motions of thy life, and cheers Thy loneliness;--or shall those smiles be

called

Feelers of love,-put forth as if to explore This untried world, and to prepare thy way Through a strait passage intricate and dim? Such are they,-and the same are tokens, signs, [arrived,

Which, when the appointed season hath Joy, as her holiest language, shall adopt; And reason's godlike power be proud to

own.

86

Poems of the Imagination.

THERE was a boy; ye knew him well, ye cliffs

And islands of Winander! many a time,
At evening, when the earliest stars began
To move along the edges of the hills,
Rising or setting, would he stand alone,
Beneath the trees, or by the glimmering lake;
And there, with fingers interwoven, both
hands
[mouth

Pressed closely palm to palm and to his
Uplifted, he, as through an instrument,
Blew mimic hootings to the silent owls,
That they might answer him.--And they
would shout

Across the watery vale, and shout again, Responsive to his call,-with quivering peals, [loud

And long halloos, and screams, and echoes Redoubled and redoubled; concourse wild Of mirth and jocund din! And, when it chanced

That pauses of deep silence mocked his skill, Then, sometimes, in that silence, while he hung

Listening, a gentle shock of mild surprise
Has carried far into his heart the voice
Of mountain torrents; or the visible scene
Would enter unawares into his mind
With all its solemn imagery, its rocks,
Its woods, and that uncertain heaven,
received

Into the bosom of the steady lake.

This boy was taken from his mates, and died

[old. In childhood, ere he was full twelve years Fair is the spot, most beautiful the vale Where he was born; the grassy church-yard hangs

Upon a slope above the village school; And through that church-yard when my way has led

At evening, I believe, that oftentimes
A long half-hour together I have stood
Mute-looking at the grave in which he
lies!

ΤΟ

ON HER FIRST ASCENT TO THE SUMMIT

OF HELVELLYN.

INMATE of a mountain-dwelling, Thou hast clomb aloft, and gazed,

From the watch-towers of Helvellyn; Awed, delighted, and amazed:

Potent was the spell that bound thee,
Not unwilling to obey;

For blue ether's arms, flung round thee,
Stilled the pantings of dismay.

Lo! the dwindled woods and meadows!
What a vast abyss is there!

Lo! the clouds, the solemn shadows,
And the glistenings-heavenly fair!

And a record of commotion
Which a thousant ridges yield;
Ridge, and gulf, and distant ocean
Gleaming like a silver shield!

Take thy flight;-possess, inherit
Alps or Andes-they are thine !
With the morning's roseate spirit,
Sweep their length of snowy line;

Or survey the bright dominiors
In the gorgeous colours drest,
Flung from off the purple pinions,
Evening spreads throughout the west!

Thine are all the choral fountains
Warbling in each sparry vault
Of the untrodden lunar mountains;
Listen to their songs!-or halt,

To Niphate's top invited,
Whither spiteful Satan steered;
Or descend where the ark alighted,
When the green earth re-appeared ;

For the power of hills is on thee,
As was witnessed through thine eye
Then, when old Helvellyn won thee
To confess their majesty!

TO THE CUCKOO.

O BLITHE new-comer! I have heard, I hear thee and rejoice.

O Cuckoo! shall I call thee bird,

Or but a wandering voice?

While I am lying on the gras
Thy twofold shout I hear,"
From hill to hill it seems to pass,
At once far off and near.

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Built round by those white clouds, enormous clouds,

Still deepens its unfathomable depth.
At length the vision closes; and the mind,
Not undisturbed by the delight it feels,
Which slowly settles into peaceful calm,
Is left to muse upon the solemn scene.

WATER-FOWL.

"Let me be allowed the aid of verse to describe the evolutions which these visitants sometimes perform, on a fine day towards the close of winter."-Extract from the Author's Book on the Lakes.

MARK how the feathered tenants of the flood, With grace of motion that might scarcely Inferior to angelical, prolong [seem Their curious pastime ! shaping in mid air (And sometimes with ambitious wing that

soars

High as the level of the mountain tops)
A circuit ampler than the lake beneath,
Their own domain ;- but ever, while intent
On tracing and retracing that large round,
Their jubilant activity evolves

Hundreds of curves and circles, to and fro,
Upward and downward, progress intricate
Yet unperplexed, as if one spirit swayed
Their indefatigable flight.-"Tis done-
Ten times, or more, I fancied it had ceased:
But lo! the vanished company again
Ascending;-they approach-I hear their
[sound
Faint, faint at first; and then an eager
Past in a moment-and as faint again!
They tempt the sun to sport amid their

wings

plumes;

To show them a fair image;-'tis themThey tempt the water, or the gleaming ice, selves, [plain,

Painted more soft and fair as they descend Their own fair forms, upon the glimmering Almost to touch ;-then up again aloft,

Up with a sally and a flash of speed, As if they scorned both resting-place and rest!

YEW-TREES.

THERE is a yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale, Which to this day stands single, in the midst Of its own darkness, as it stood of yore, Not loth to furnish weapons for the bands Of Umfraville or Percy ere they marched To Scotland's heaths; or those that crossed the sea

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