Изображения страниц
PDF
EPUB

No fe an interval however brief;

Te mest thoughts that search for stedfast light,
ve from her depths, and duty in her might,
A.: fit-these only yield secure relief.

XIV.

ILLUSTRATED BOOKS AND NEWSPAPERS. CRSE was deemed man's noblest attribute, Lac written words the glory of his hand; rowed printing with enlarged command thought—dominion vast and absolute

reading truth, and making love expand. pruse and verse sunk into disrepute eojuey a dumb art that best can suit 7-te of this once intellectual land.

Caward movement surely have we here, manhood—-back to childhood; for the age1-wards caverned life's first rude career. ths vile abuse of pictured page! Meres be all in all, the tongue and ear ng Heaven keep us from a lower stage.

XV.

A FLEA FOR AUTHORS, MAY 1838.

TNG impartial measure to dispense
Try stutor, equity is lame;

al justice, stript of reverence
eral rights, a mockery and a shame;
labra servile dupe of false pretence,

ang grossest things from common claim at for ever, she, to works that came ind and spirit, grudge a short-lived fence. *what* lengthened privilege, a lineal tie, Yes, heartless ones, or be it proved fault in us to have lived and loved kamera, with like temporal hopes to die;

[ocr errors]
[blocks in formation]

After the perusal of his Theophilus Anglicanus, recently published.
ENLIGHTENED teacher, gladly from thy hand
Have I received this proof of pains bestowed
By thee to guide thy pupils on the road
That, in our native isle, and every land,
The Church, when trusting in divine command
And in her Catholic attributes, hath trod :
O may these lessons be with profit scanned
To thy heart's wish, thy labour blest by God!
So the bright faces of the young and gay
Shall look more bright- the happy, happier still;
Catch, in the pauses of their keenest play,
Motions of thought which elevate the will
And, like the spire that from your classic hill
Points heavenward, indicate the end and way.
RYDAL MOUNT, Dec. 11, 1843.

[ocr errors]

XVIII.

TO THE PLANET VENUS.

Upon its approximation (as an Evening Star) to the Earth, Jan. 1838. WHAT strong allurement draws, what spirit guides, Thee, Vesper! brightening still, as if the nearer Thou com'st to man's abode the spot grew dearer Night after night? True is it nature hides Her treasures less and less. Man now presides red; and streams of truth dried up, even at their In power, where once he trembled in his weakness; BOKIrce!

ir barm that genius from her course

XVI.

A POET TO HIS GRANDCHILD.

(SEQUEL TO THE FOREGOING.)

~ of my buried son! while thus thy hand Pasig sne, it saddens me to think

1 wand may press thee down, and with thee sink

clay chiaren, left unfit, through vain demand*

Science advances with gigantic strides;

But are we aught enriched in love and meekness?
Aught dost thou see, bright star! of pure and wise
More than in humbler times graced human story;
That makes our hearts more apt to sympathise
With heaven, our souls more fit for future glory,
When earth shall vanish from our closing eyes,
Ere we lie down in our last dormitory?

XIX.

AT DOVER.

The actor of an animated article, printed in the Law in favour of the principle of Sergeant Talfourd's FROM the pier's head, musing, and with increase ~41 Bui, precedes me in the public expression of this

e: wach had been forced too often upon my own by remembering how few descendants of men emire a erature are even known to exist.

Of wonder, I have watched this sea-side town,
Under the white cliff's battlemented crown,
Hushed to a depth of more than sabbath peace:

The streets and quays are thronged, but why disown
Their natural utterance: whence this strange release
From social noise - silence elsewhere unknown?
A spirit whispered, "Let all wonder cease;
Ocean's o'erpowering murmurs have set free
Thy sense from pressure of life's common din;
As the dread voice that speaks from out the sea
Of God's eternal Word, the voice of time
Doth deaden, shocks of tumult, shrieks of crime,
The shouts of folly, and the groans of sin."

Must perish; - how can they this blight endure?
And must he too the ruthless change bemoan
Who scorns a false utilitarian lure
Mid his paternal fields at random thrown?
Baffle the threat, bright scene from Orrest-head
Given to the pausing traveller's rapturous glance
Plead for thy peace, thou beautiful romance
Of nature; and, if human hearts be dead,
Speak, passing winds; ye torrents, with your stro
And constant voice, protest against the wrong.

October 12th, 1844.

XX.

WANSFELL!* this household has a favoured lot,
Living with liberty on thee to gaze,

To watch while morn first crowns thee with her rays,
Or when along thy breast serenely float
Evening's angelic clouds. Yet ne'er a note
Hath sounded (shame upon the bard!) thy praise
For all that thou, as if from heaven, hast brought
Of glory lavished on our quiet days.
Bountiful son of earth! when we are gone
From every object dear to mortal sight,
As soon we shall be, may these words attest
How oft, to elevate our spirits, shone
Thy visionary majesties of light,

How in thy pensive glooms our hearts found rest.

Dec, 24, 1842.

XXI.

WHILE beams of orient light shoot wide and high,
Deep in the vale a little rural town t
Breathes forth a cloud-like creature of its own,
That mounts not toward the radiant morning sky,
But, with a less ambitious sympathy,
Hangs o'er its parent waking to the cares
Troubles and toils that every day prepares.
So fancy, to the musing poet's eye,
Endears that lingerer. And how blest her sway
(Like influence never may my soul reject)
If the calm Heaven, now to its zenith decked
With glorious forms in numberless array,
To the lone shepherd on the hills disclose
Gleams from a world in which the saints repose.

Jan. 1, 1843.

XXII.

ON THE PROJECTED KENDAL AND WINDERMERE
RAILWAY.

Is then no nook of English ground secure
From rash assault? Schemes of retirement sown
In youth, and raid the busy world kept pure

As when their earliest flowers of hope were blown,

XXIII.

PROUD were ye, mountains, when, in times of old.
Your patriot sons, to stem invasive war,
Intrenched your brows; ye gloried in each scar:
Now, for your shame, a power, the thirst of gold,
That rules o'er Britain like a baneful star,
Wills that your peace, your beauty, shall be sold.
And clear way made for her triumphal car
Through the beloved retreats your arms enfold!
Heard YE that whistle? As her long-linked train
Swept onwards, did the vision cross your view!
Yes, ye were startled; and, in balance true,
Weighing the mischief with the promised gain,
Mountains, and vales, and floods, I call on you
To share the passion of a just disdain.

XXIV.

AT FURNESS ABBEY.

HERE, where, of havoc tired and rash undoing,
Man left this structure to become time's prey
A soothing spirit follows in the way
That Nature takes, her counter-work pursuing.
See how her ivy clasps the sacred ruin
Fall to prevent or beautify decay;

And, on the mouldered walls, how bright, how gay
The flowers in pearly dews their bloom renewing'
Thanks to the place, blessings upon the nour;
Even as I speak the rising sun's first smile
Gleams on the grass-crowned top of yon tall tower
Whose cawing occupants with joy proclaim
Prescriptive title to the shattered pile

Where, Cavendish, thine seems nothing but a nat

yeomanry feel to their small inheritances can scarce! over-rated. Near the house of one of them stands it nificent tree, which a neighbour of the owner advised to fell for profit's sake. "Fell it !" exclaimed the yea "I had rather fall on my knees and worship it." It pens, I believe, that the intended railway would |

The hill that rises to the south-east, above Ambleside. through this little property, and I hope that an a † Ambleside.

the answer will not be thought necessary by cen

The degree and kind of attachment which many of the enters into the strength of the feeling.

L

[ocr errors]

XXV.

AT FURNESS ABBEY.

mi 'ave you railway labourers to THIS ground rawn for noontide rest. They sit, they walk the ruins, but no idle talk \-ard; to grave demeanour all are bound; fram one voice a hymn with tuneful sound sunce more the long-deserted quire this the old sepulchral earth, around. hers ook up, and with fixed eyes admire Ind.de-spread arch, wondering how it was raised, |-, so high in air, its strength and grace:

*m to feel the spirit of the place,

the general reverence God is praised:

se despoilers, stand ye not reproved,

thus these simple-hearted men are moved? *

[ocr errors]

XXVI.

VALEDICTORY SONNET.

Closing the Volume of Sonnets published in 1838.†
SERVING no haughty muse, my hands have here
Disposed some cultured flowerets (drawn from spots
Where they bloomed singly, or in scattered knots),
Each kind in several beds of one parterre;
Both to allure the casual loiterer,

And that, so placed, my nurslings may requite
Studious regard with opportune delight,
Nor be unthanked, unless I fondly err.
But metaphor dismissed, and thanks apart,
Reader, farewell! My last words let them be—
If in this book fancy and truth agree;

If simple nature trained by careful art
Through it have found a passage to thy heart;
Grant me thy love, I crave no other fee!

[blocks in formation]

entiest shade that walked Elysian plains
met.mes covet dissoluble chains;
the tenants of the zone that lies
the stars, celestial Paradise,

twould heighten joy, to overleap the crystal battlements, and peep wre other region, though less fair,

things are made and managed there. for the worse might please, incursion bold

te tracts of darkness and of cold; Lo lake with aery flight to steer,

the verge of Chaos hang in fear. amation often do I find,

Ta my breast, wings growing in my mind, ten some rock or hill is overpast, ance without one look behind me cast, ewer with which nature, from the birth - has fenced this fairest spot on earth.

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

For a brief absence, proves that love is true; Ne'er can the way be irksome or forlorn That winds into itself for sweet return.

II. (1.)

AT THE GRAVE OF BURNS.

1803.

SEVEN YEARS AFTER HIS DEATH.

I SHIVER, spirit fierce and bold,

At thought of what I now behold:
As vapours breathed from dungeons cold
Strike pleasure dead,

So sadness comes from out the mould
Where Burns is laid.

And have I then thy bones so near,
And thou forbidden to appear?
As if it were thyself that's here
I shrink with pain;

And both my wishes and my fear
Alike are vain.

Off weight-nor press on weight!-away Dark thoughts! - they came, but not to stay;

[In a brief advertisement to the Volume of Sonnets, the author said:

"My admiration of some of the sonnets of Milton, first tempted me to write in that form. The fact is not mentioned from a notion that it will be deemed of any importance by the reader, but merely as a public acknowledgment of one of the innumerable obligations, which, as a poe and a man, I am under to our great fellow-countryman RYDAL MOUNT, May 21st, 1838."— H. R.]

With chastened feelings would I pay
The tribute due

To him, and aught that hides his clay
From mortal view.

Fresh as the flower, whose modest worth
He sang, his genius 'glinted' forth,
Rose like a star that touching earth,
For so it seems,

Doth glorify its humble birth

With matchless beams.

The piercing eye, the thoughtful brow,
The struggling heart, where be they now?
Full soon the aspirant of the plough,
The prompt, the brave,
Slept, with the obscurest, in the low

And silent grave.

I mourned with thousands, but as one
More deeply grieved, for he was gone
Whose light I hailed when first it shone,
And showed my youth

How verse may build a princely throne
On humble truth.

Alas! where'er the current tends,
Regret pursues and with it blends,—
Huge Criffel's hoary top ascends

By Skiddaw seen,—

Neighbours we were, and loving friends
We might have been;

True friends though diversely inclined;
But heart with heart and mind with mind,
Where the main fibres are entwined,
Through nature's skill,
May even by contraries be joined
More closely still.

The tear will start, and let it flow;
Thou poor inhabitant below,'

At this dread moment

[ocr errors]

Might we together

even so

[blocks in formation]

Harboured where none can be misled,

Wronged or distrest;

And surely here it may be said
That such are blest.

And oh for thee, by pitying grace
Checked oft-times in a devious race,
May He who halloweth the place
Where man is laid

Receive thy spirit in the embrace
For which it prayed!

Sighing I turned away; but ere

Night fell I heard, or seemed to hear, Music that sorrow comes not near,

A ritual hymn,

Chaunted in love that casts out fear By Seraphim.

II. (2.)

THOUGHTS

SUGGESTED THE DAY FOLLOWING, ON THE BANKS OF NITH, THE POET'S RESIDENCE.

Too frail to keep the lofty vow

That must have followed when his brow
Was wreathed-"The Vision" tells us how
With holly spray,

He faultered, drifted to and fro,
And passed away.

Well might such thoughts, dear sister, thron

Our minds when, lingering all too long,
Over the grave of Burns we hung

In social grief

Indulged as if it were a wrong To seek relief.

But, leaving each unquiet theme

Where gentlest judgments may misdeem,
And prompt to welcome every gleam
Of good and fair,

Let us beside this limpid stream
Breathe hopeful air.

Enough of sorrow, wreck, and blight;
Think rather of those moments bright
When to the consciousness of right

His course was true,
When wisdom prospered in his sight
And virtue grew.

Yes, freely let our hearts expand,
Freely as in youth's season bland,
When side by side, his book in hand,
We wont to stray,

Our pleasure varying at command
Of each sweet lay.

How oft inspired must he have trod
These pathways, yon far-stretching road!

There lurks his home; in that abode,

With mirth elate,

Or in his nobly-pensive mood,

The rustic sate.

Proud thoughts that image overawes,
Before it humbly let us pause,

And ask of Nature, from what cause
And by what rules

She trained her Burns to win applause
That shames the schools.

Through busiest street and loneliest glen
Are felt the flashes of his pen;

He rules mid winter snows, and when
Bees fill their hives;

Deep in the general heart of men
His power survives.

What need of fields in some far clime
Where Heroes, Sages, Bards sublime,
And all that fetched the flowing rhyme
From genuine springs,

Stall dwell together till old Time

Folds up his wings?

Sweet Mercy! to the gates of Heaven
This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven;
The rueful conflict, the heart riven
With vain endeavour,

And memory of earth's bitter leaven,
Effaced for ever.

But why to him confine the prayer,
When kindred thoughts and yearnings bear
On the frail heart the purest share

With all that live?

The best of what we do and are,
Just God, forgive!*

In a letter from Wordsworth to the Editor, dated Mant, Dec. 23d, 1839, this poem is referred to as There is a difference of more than the of your life, I believe, between our ages. I am now *ing on the brink of that vast ocean I must sail so soon -aat speedily lose sight of the shore; and I could not have conceived how little I now am troubled by the

of how long or short a time they who remain upon are may have sight of me. The other day I chanced ➡g over a MS. poem belonging to the year 1803, tat actually composed till many years afterwards. izrested by visiting the neighbourhood of Dumfries, Bros had resided, and where he died: it con1-3 20:

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

II. (3.)

TO THE SONS OF BURNS,

AFTER VISITING THE GRAVE OF THEIR FATHER.

"The poet's grave is in a corner of the churchyard. We looked at it with melancholy and painful reflections, repeating to each other his own verses

Is there a man whose judgment clear,' &c."

Extract from the Journal of my Fellow-traveller.t

'MID crowded obelisks and urns

I sought the untimely grave of Burns;
Sons of the Bard, my heart still mourns
With sorrow true;

And more would grieve, but that it turns
Trembling to you!

Through twilight shades of good and ill
Ye now are panting up life's hill,
And more than common strength and skill
Must ye display;

If ye would give the better will
Its lawful sway.

Hath Nature strung your nerves to bear
Intemperance with less harm, beware!
But if the poet's wit ye share,
Like him can speed

The social hour of tenfold care
There will be need;

For honest men delight will take
To spare your failings for his sake,
Will flatter you, and fool and rake
Your steps pursue;

And of your father's name will make
A snare for you.

Far from their noisy haunts retire,
And add your voices to the quire
That sanctify the cottage fire
With service meet;
There seek the genius of your sire,

His spirit greet;

Or where, 'mid "lonely heights and hows,"
He paid to nature tuneful vows;
Or wiped his honourable brows
Bedewed with toil,
While reapers strove, or busy ploughs
Upturned the soil;

His judgment with benignant ray
Shall guide, his fancy cheer, your way;
But ne'er to a seductive lay

Let faith be given;

Nor deem that "light which leads astray,
Is light from Heaven."

Let no mean hope your souls enslave;
Be independent, generous, brave;
Your father such example gave,
And such revere;
But be admonished by his grave,
And think and fear!

† See Note.

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »