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ODE TO DUTY.
Stern Daughte: of the Voice of God!
When empty terrors overawe;
From vain temptations dost set free;
And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity!
There are who ask not if thine eye
Be on them; who, in love and truth,
Upon the genial sense of youth:
Glad Hearts! without reproach or blot;
Who do thy work, and know it not:
Oh! if through confidence misplaced
They fail, thy saving arms, dread Power! around
Serene will be our days and bright,
Yet seek thy firm support, according to their necd
I, loving freedom, and untried;
Thy timely mandate, I deferred
The task, in smoother walks to stray;
But thee I now would serve more strictly if I may
Through no disturbance of my soul,
But in the quietness of thought:
Me this unchartered freedom tires;
I feel the weight of chance-desires :
Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear
Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong;
And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh
To humbler functions, awful Power!
The confidence of reason give;
And in the light of truth thy Bondman let me live!
O Nightingale! thou surely art
A creature of a 'fiery heart' :
These notes of thine-they pierce and pierce;
Thou sing'st as if the God of wine
heard a Stock-dove sing or say
THE MOUNTAIN ECHO.
Yes, it was the mountain Echo,
To a babbling wanderer sent;
Hears not also mortal Life?
Have not we too?-yes, we have
Such rebounds our inward ear
INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of yore ;-
By night or day,
The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
The Rainbow comes and goes,
And lovely is the Rose,
The Moon doth with delight
Look round her when the heavens are bare,
Waters on a starry night
Are beautiful and fair;
The sunshine is a glorious birth;
But yet I know, where'er I go,
That there hath past away a glory from the earth.
Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song,
To me alone there came a thought of grief:
The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep;
Give themselves up to jollity,
And with the heart of May
Doth every Beast keep holiday ;—
Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy
Ye blessed Creatures, I have heard the call
The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee ;
My head hath its coronal,
The fulness of your bliss, I feel-I feel it all.
On every side,
In a thousand valleys far and wide,
And the Babe leaps up on his Mother's arm :—
-But there's a Tree, of many, one,
A single Field which I have looked upon,
Doth the same tale repeat:
Whither is fled the visionary gleam?
Where is it now, the glory and the dream?