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XLII

STEAMBOATS, VIADUCTS, AND RAILWAYS

OTIONS and Means, on land and sea at war
With old poetic feeling, not for this,
Shall ye, by Poets even, be judged amiss!
Nor shall your presence, howsoe'er it mar
The loveliness of Nature, prove a bar
To the Mind's gaining that prophetic sense
Of future change, that point of vision, whence
May be discovered what in soul ye are.
In spite of all that beauty may disown

In your harsh features, Nature doth embrace
Her lawful offspring in Man's art; and Time,
Pleased with your triumphs o'er his brother Space,
Accepts from your bold hands the proffered crown
Of hope, and smiles on you with cheer sublime.

ΤΟ

XLIII

THE MONUMENT COMMONLY CALLED LONG MEG AND HER
DAUGHTERS, NEAR THE RIVER EDEN

A

WEIGHT of awe, not easy to be borne,

Fell suddenly upon my Spirit-cast

From the dread bosom of the unknown past,

When first I saw that family forlorn.

Speak Thou, whose massy strength and stature scorn The power of years-pre-eminent, and placed

Apart, to overlook the circle vast

Speak, Giant-mother! tell it to the Morn

While she dispels the cumbrous shades of Night;
Let the Moon hear, emerging from a cloud;
At whose behest uprose on British ground
That Sisterhood, in hieroglyphic round
Forth-shadowing, some have deemed, the infinite
The inviolable God, that tames the proud.1

Probably 1821

ΤΟ

XLIV
LOWTHER

L

OWTHER! in thy majestic Pile are seen

Cathedral pomp and grace, in apt accord

With the baronial castle's sterner mien;
Union significant of God adored,

1 See Note.

And charters won and guarded by the sword
Of ancient honour; whence that goodly state
Of polity which wise men venerate,

And will maintain, if God his help afford.
Hourly the democratic torrent swells;
For airy promises and hopes suborned

The strength of backward-looking thoughts is scorned.
Fall if ye must, ye Towers and Pinnacles,

With what ye symbolise; authentic Story

Will say, Ye disappeared with England's Glory!

XLV

TO THE EARL OF LONSDALE

'Magistratus indicat virum'

ONSDALE! it were unworthy of a Guest,

LON

Whose heart with gratitude to thee inclines,
If he should speak, by fancy touched, of signs
On thy Abode harmoniously imprest,
Yet be unmoved with wishes to attest
How in thy mind and moral frame agree
Fortitude, and that Christian Charity
Which, filling, consecrates the human breast.
And if the Motto on thy 'scutcheon teach
With truth, 'THE MAGISTRACY SHOWS THE MAN';
That searching test thy public course has stood;
As will be owned alike by bad and good,
Soon as the measuring of life's little span
Shall place thy virtues out of Envy's reach. 1

LIST

XLVI

THE SOMNAMBULIST

IST, ye who pass by Lyulph's Tower 2
At eve; how softly then

Doth Aira-force, that torrent hoarse,
Speak from the woody glen!
Fit music for a solemn vale!

And holier seems the ground
To him who catches on the gale
The spirit of a mournful tale,
Embodied in the sound.

1 See Note.

ΤΟ

ΤΟ

2 A pleasure-house built by the late Duke of Norfolk upon the banks of Ullswater. FORCE is the word used in the Lake District for Water-fall.

Not far from that fair site whereon

The Pleasure-house is reared,
As story says, in antique days
A stern-browed house appeared;
Foil to a Jewel rich in light

There set, and guarded well;
Cage for a Bird of plumage bright,
Sweet-voiced, nor wishing for a flight
Beyond her native dell.

To win this bright Bird from her cage,

To make this Gem their own,

Came Barons bold, with store of gold,
And Knights of high renown;

But one She prized, and only one;
Sir Eglamore was he;

Full happy season, when was known,
Ye Dales and Hills! to you alone
Their mutual loyalty—

ΤΟ

20

Known chiefly, Aira! to thy glen,
Thy brook, and bowers of holly;

Where Passion caught what Nature taught,
That all but love is folly;

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Where Fact with Fancy stooped to play ;
Doubt came not, nor regret-

To trouble hours that winged their way,
As if through an immortal day

Whose sun could never set.

But in old times Love dwelt not long
Sequestered with repose;

Best throve the fire of chaste desire,
Fanned by the breath of foes.
'A conquering lance is beauty's test,
And proves the Lover true';
So spake Sir Eglamore, and pressed
The drooping Emma to his breast,
And looked a blind adieu.

They parted.-Well with him it fared
Through wide-spread regions errant ;
A knight of proof in love's behoof,
The thirst of fame his warrant:

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And She her happiness can build

On woman's quiet hours;

Though faint, compared with spear and shield,
The solace beads and masses yield,

And needlework and flowers.

Yet blest was Emma when she heard
Her Champion's praise recounted;
Though brain would swim, and eyes grow dim,
And high her blushes mounted;
Or when a bold heroic lay

She warbled from full heart;
Delightful blossoms for the May

Of absence! but they will not stay,
Born only to depart.

Hope wanes with her, while lustre fills
Whatever path he chooses;

As if his orb, that owns no curb,

Received the light hers loses.

He comes not back; an ampler space
Requires for nobler deeds;

He ranges on from place to place,
Till of his doings is no trace,

But what her fancy breeds.

His fame may spread, but in the past
Her spirit finds its centre ;

Clear sight She has of what he was,
And that would now content her.

'Still is he my devoted Knight?'

The tear in answer flows;

Month falls on month with heavier weight;
Day sickens round her, and the night
Is empty of repose.

In sleep She sometimes walked abroad,
Deep sighs with quick words blending,

Like that pale Queen whose hands are seen
With fancied spots contending;

But she is innocent of blood,

The moon is not more pure

That shines aloft, while through the wood

She thrids her way, the sounding Flood
Her melancholy lure!

While 'mid the fern-brake sleeps the doe,
And owls alone are waking,

In white arrayed, glides on the Maid
The downward pathway taking,
That leads her to the torrent's side
And to a holly bower;

By whom on this still night descried?
By whom in that lone place espied?
By thee, Sir Eglamore!

A wandering Ghost, so thinks the Knight,
His coming step has thwarted,

Beneath the boughs that heard their vows,
Within whose shade they parted.
Hush, hush, the busy Sleeper see!
Perplexed her fingers seem,
As if they from the holly tree
Green twigs would pluck, as rapidly
Flung from her to the stream.

What means the Spectre? Why intent
To violate the Tree,

Thought Eglamore, by which I swore
Unfading constancy?

Here am I, and to-morrow's sun,

To her I left, shall prove

That bliss is ne'er so surely won

As when a circuit has been run
Of valour, truth and love.

So from the spot whereon he stood,
He moved with stealthy pace;

And, drawing nigh, with his living eye,
He recognised the face;

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And whispers caught, and speeches small,
Some to the green-leaved tree,

Some muttered to the torrent-fall ;—

'Roar on, and bring him with thy call;

I heard, and so may He!'

Soul-shattered was the Knight, nor knew

If Emma's Ghost it were,

Or boding Shade, or if the Maid
Her very self stood there.

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