Her trappings here, should strip them off abashed
Before antiquity and steadfast truth
And strong book-mindedness; and over all
A healthy sound simplicity should reign,

A seemly plainness, name it what you will,
Republican or pious.

If these thoughts
Are a gratuitous emblazonry

That mocks the recreant age we live in, then
Be Folly and False-seeming free to affect
Whatever formal gait of discipline

Shall raise them highest in their own esteem
Let them parade among the Schools at will,
But spare the House of God. Was ever known
The witless shepherd who persists to drive
A flock that thirsts not to a pool disliked?
A weight must surely hang on days begun
And ended with such mockery. Be wise,
Ye Presidents and Deans, and, till the spirit
Of ancient times revive, and youth be trained
At home in pious service, to your bells
Give seasonable rest, for 'tis a sound
Hollow as ever vexed the tranquil air;
And your officious doings bring disgrace
On the plain steeples of our English Church,
Whose worship, 'mid remotest village trees,
Suffers for this. Even Science, too, at hand
In daily sight of this irreverence,

Is smitten thence with an unnatural taint,
Loses her just authority, falls beneath
Collateral suspicion, else unknown.
This truth escaped me not, and I confess,
That having 'mid my native hills given loose
To a schoolboy's vision, I had raised a pile
Upon the basis of the coming time,

That fell in ruins round me. Oh, what joy
To see a sanctuary for our country's youth
Informed with such a spirit as might be
Its own protection; a primeval grove,

When, in forlorn and naked chambers cooped
And crowded, o'er the ponderous books they hung
Like caterpillars eating out their way
In silence, or with keen devouring noise
Not to be tracked or fathered. Princes then
At matins froze, and couched at curfew-time,
Trained up through piety and zeal to prize
Spare diet, patient labour, and plain weeds.
O seat of Arts! renowned throughout the world!
Far different service in those homely days
The Muses' modest nurslings underwent
From their first childhood: in that glorious time
When Learning, like a stranger come from far,
Sounding through Christian lands her trumpet, roused
Peasant and king; when boys and youths, the growth
Of ragged villages and crazy huts,
Forsook their homes, and errant in the quest
Of Patron, famous school or friendly nook.
Where, pensioned, they in shelter might sit down,
From town to town and through wide scattered realme
Journeyed with ponderous folios in their hands;
And often, starting from some covert place,
Saluted the chance comer on the road,
Crying, “An obolus, a penny give

To a poor scholar!"- when illustrious men,
Lovers of truth, by penury constrained,
Bucer, Erasmus, or Melancthon, real
Before the doors or windows of their cells
By moonshine through mere lack of taper light.

But peace to vain regrets! We see but darkly Even when we look behind us, and best things Are not so pure by nature that they needs Must keep to all, as fondly all believe, Their highest promise. If the mariner, When at reluctant distance he hath passed Some tempting island, could but know the ills That must have fallen upon him had he brought His bark to land upon the wished-for shore,

Nor indigent of songs warbled from crowds

In under-coverts, yet the countenance

Of the whole place should bear a stamp of awe;

A habitation sober and demure

For ruminating creatures; a domain
For quiet things to wander in; a haunt
In which the heron should delight to feed
By the shy rivers, and the pelican
Upon the cypress spire in lonely thought
Might sit and sun himself. Alas! Alas!
In vain for such solemnity I looked;

Mine eyes were crossed by butterflies, ears vexed
By chattering popinjays; the inner heart
Seemed trivial, and the impresses without
Of a too gaudy region.

Different sight
Those venerable Doctors saw of old,

When all who dwelt within these famous walls Led in abstemiousness a studious life

Whose white belt scared him thence, or wind that blew

Inexorably adverse: for myself

I grieve not; happy is the gowned youth,
Who only misses what I missed, who falls
No lower than I fell.

I did not love,
Judging not ill perhaps, the timid course
Of our scholastic studies; could have wished
To see the river flow with ampler range
And freer pace; but more, far more, I grieved
To see displayed among an eager few,
Who in the field of contest persevered,
Passions unworthy of youth's generous heart
And mounting spirit, pitiably repaid,
When so disturbed, whatever palms are won.
From these I turned to travel with the shoal
Of more unthinking natures, easy minds
And pillowy; yet not wanting love that makes
The day pass lightly on, when foresight sleeps,

And wisdom and the pledges interchanged fur own inner being are forgot.

it was this deep vacation not given up
Tter waste. Hitherto I had stood
1:ay own mind remote from social life,
Aeast from what we commonly so name,)
Lae alone shepherd on a promontory,
Wo lacking occupation looks far forth
!: the boundless sea, and rather makes
T finds what he beholds. And sure it is,
Tat this first transit from the smooth delights
And wild outlandish walks of simple youth,
Tomething that resembles an approach
T wards human business, to a privileged world
Wt in a world, a midway residence
With all its intervenient imagery,
D: better suit my visionary mind,

Tir better, than to have been bolted forth,
Test out abruptly into Fortune's way
Ang the conflicts of substantial life;
B: a more just gradation did lead on
Tigher things; more naturally matured,
Ferroanent possession, better fruits,
Wther of truth or virtue, to ensue.
Insert us mood, but oftener, I confess,
With playful zest of fancy did we note

a could we less?) the manners and the ways those who lived distinguished by the badge gd or ill report; or those with whom E-Time of Academic discipline

We were perforce connected, men whose sway
A known authority of office served
To set our minds on edge, and did no more.
Nr wanted we rich pastime of this kind,
Fand everywhere, but chiefly in the ring
Of the grave Elders, men unscoured, grotesque
Icaracter, tricked out like aged trees
We through the lapse of their infirmity
fready place to any random seed
That choses to be reared upon their trunks.

Here on my view, confronting vividly The shepherd swains whom I had lately left, Apeared a different aspect of old age; H different! yet both distinctly marked, Qects embossed to catch the general eye, Or portraitures for special use designed, As some might seem, so aptly do they serve To illustrate Nature's book of rudimentsThat book upheld as with maternal care When she would enter on her tender scheme Of teaching comprehension with delight, And mingling playful with pathetic thoughts.

The surfaces of artificial life

And manners finely wrought, the delicate race
Of colours, lurking, gleaming up and down
Through that state arras woven with silk and gold;

This wily interchange of snaky hues,
Willingly or unwillingly revealed,

I neither knew nor cared for; and as such
Were wanting here, I took what might be found
Or less elaborate fabric. At this day

I smile, in many a mountain solitude
Conjuring up scenes as obsolete in freaks
Of character, in points of wit as broad,
As aught by wooden images performed
For entertainment of the gaping crowd
At wake or fair. And oftentimes do flit
Remembrances before me of old men -

Old humourists, who have been long in their graves,
And having almost in my mind put off
Their human names, have into phantoms passed
Of texture midway between life and books.

I play the loiterer: 'tis enough to note
That here in dwarf proportions were expressed
The limbs of the great world; its eager strifes
Collaterally portrayed, as in mock fight,
A tournament of blows, some hardly dealt
Though short of mortal combat; and whate'er
Might in this pageant be supposed to hit
An artless rustic's notice, this way less,
More that way, was not wasted upon me-
And yet the spectacle may well demand
A more substantial name, no mimic show,
Itself a living part of a live whole,

A creek in the vast sea; for, all degrees
And shapes of spurious fame and short-lived praise
Here sate in state, and fed with daily alms
Retainers won away from solid good;
And here was Labour, his own bond-slave; Hope
That never set the pains against the prize;
Idleness halting with his weary clog,
And poor misguided Shame, and witless Fear,
And simple Pleasure foraging for Death;
Honour misplaced, and Dignity astray;
Feuds, factions, flatteries, enmity, and guile
Murmuring submission, and bald government,
(The idol weak as the idolator,)

And Decency and Custom starving Truth,
And blind Authority beating with his staff
The child that might have led him; Emptiness
Followed as of good omen, and meek Worth
Left to herself unheard of and unknown.

Of these and other kindred notices

I cannot say what portion is in truth

The naked recollection of that time,
And what may rather have been called to life
By after-meditation. But delight
That, in an easy temper lulled asleep,
Is still with Innocence its own reward,
This was not wanting. Carelessly I roamed
As through a wide museum from whose stores
A casual rarity is singled out

And has its brief perusal, then gives way

To others, all supplanted in their turn;
Till 'mid this crowded neighbourhood of things
That are by nature most unneighbourly,
The head turns round and cannot right itself;
And though an aching and a barren sense
Of gay confusion still be uppermost,
With few wise longings and but litttle love,

Yet to the memory something cleaves at last, Whence profit may be drawn in times to come.

Thus in submissive idleness, my Friend! The labouring time of autumn, winter, spring, Eight months! rolled pleasingly away; the ninth Came and returned me to my native hills.

Followed each other till a dreary moor

Was crossed, a bare ridge clomb, upon whose top
Standing alone, as from a rampart's edge,
I overlooked the bed of Windermere,
Like a vast river stretching in the sun.
With exultation, at my feet I saw
Lake, islands, promontories, gleaming bays,
A universe of Nature's fairest forms
Proudly revealed with instantaneous burst,
Magnificent, and beautiful, and gay.
I bounded down the hill shouting amain
For the old Ferryman; to the shout the rocks
Replied, and when the Charon of the flood
Had stayed his oars, and touched the jutting pier,
I did not step into the well-known boat
Without a cordial greeting. Thence with speed
Up the familiar hill I took my way

Towards that sweet Valley* where I had been reared;
'Twas but a short hour's walk, ere veering round
I saw the snow-white church upon her hill
Sit like a throned Lady, sending out
A gracious look all over her domain.
Yon azure smoke betrays the lurking town;
With eager footsteps I advance and reach
The cottage threshold where my journey closed.
Glad welcome had I, with some tears, perhaps,
From my old Dame, so kind and motherly,
While she perused me with a parent's pride.
The thoughts of gratitude shall fall like dew
Upon thy grave, good creature! While my heart
Can beat never will I forget thy name.
Heaven's blessing be upon thee where thou liest
After thy innocent and busy stir

In narrow cares, thy little daily growth
Of calm enjoyments, after eighty years,
And more than eighty, of untroubled life,

* Hawkshead.

Honoured with little less than filial love.
What joy was mine to see thee once again,
Thee and thy dwelling, and a crowd of things
About its narrow precincts all beloved,
And many of them seeming yet my own!
Why should I speak of what a thousand hearts
Have felt, and every man alive can guess!
The rooms, the court, the garden were not left
Long unsaluted, nor the sunny seat
Round the stone table under the dark pine,
Friendly to studious or to festive hours;
Nor that unruly child of mountain birth,
The famous brook, who, soon as he was boxed
Within our garden, found himself at once,
As if by trick insidious and unkind,
Stripped of his voice and left to dimple down
(Without an effort and without a will)
A channel paved by man's officious care.
I looked at him and smiled, and siniled again,
And in the press of twenty thousand thoughts,
“Ha," quoth I, “pretty prisoner, are you there!"
Well might sarcastic Fancy then have whispered,
"An emblem here behold of thy own life;
In its late course of even days with all
Their smooth enthralment;" but the heart was full,
Too full for that reproach. My aged Dame
Walked proudly at my side: she guided me;
I willing, nay nay, wishing to be led.

-

-The face of every neighbour whom I met Was like a volume to me; some were bailed Upon the road, some busy at their work, Unceremonious greetings interchanged With half the length of a long field between. Among my schoolfellows I scattered round Like recognitions, but with some constraint Attended, doubtless, with a little pride, But with more shame, for my habiliments, The transformation wrought by gay attire.

Les delighted did I take my place IBT domestic table: and, dear Friend! endeavour simply to relate

Fet's history, may I leave untold

ankfulness with which I laid me down vy accustomed bed, more welcome now Prams than if it had been more desired been more often thought of with regret; at lowly bed whence I had heard the wind ar and the rain beat hard, where I so oft afai awake on summer nights to watch be noon in splendour couched among the leaves fatal ash, that near our cottage stood;

ad watched her with fixed eyes while to and fro the dark summit of the waving tree

rocked with every impulse of the breeze. Among the favourites whom it pleased me well o see again, was one by ancient right tamate, a rough terrier of the hills; birth and call of nature pre-ordained tant the badger and unearth the fox

y the impervious crags, but having been youth our own adopted, he had passed La gentler service. And when first

boyish spirit flagged, and day by day - ny veins I kindled with the stir, fermentation, and the vernal heat ? pesy, affecting private shades

a sick Lover, then this dog was used watch me, an attendant and a friend, bous to my steps early and late, bgh often of such dilatory walk

d, and uneasy at the halts I made. adred times when, roving high and low, have been harassed with the toil of verse, lupains and little progress, and at once e lovely Image in the song rose up rmed, like Venus rising from the sea; ww have I darted forwards to let loose and upon his back with stormy joy, ating him again and yet again. a when at evening on the public way Mastered, like a river murmuring **king to itself when all things else el, the creature trotted on before;

16

* was his custom; but whene'er he met senger approaching, he would turn ve me timely notice, and straightway, teful for that admonishment, I hushed It mee, composed my gait, and, with the air turn of one whose thoughts are free, advanced ve and take a greeting that might save ytane from piteous rumours, such as wait en suspected to be crazed in brain.

The walks well worthy to be prized and loved peted!-that word, too, was on my tongue, they were richly laden with all good, And cannot be remembered but with thanks

And gratitude, and perfect joy of heart-
Those walks in all their freshness now came back
Like a returning Spring. When first I made
Once more the circuit of our little lake,
If ever happiness hath lodged with man,
That day consummate happiness was mine,
Wide-spreading, steady, calm, contemplative.
The sun was set, or setting, when I left
Our cottage door, and evening soon brought on
A sober hour, not winning or serene,

For cold and raw the air was, and untuned;
But as a face we love is sweetest then
When sorrow damps it, or, whatever look
It chance to wear, is sweetest if the heart
Have fulness in herself; even so with me
It fared that evening. Gently did my soul
Put off her veil, and, self-transmuted, stood
Naked, as in the presence of her God.

While on I walked, a comfort seemed to touch
A heart that had not been disconsolate:
Strength came where weakness was not known to be,
At least not felt; and restoration came
Like an intruder knocking at the door

Of unacknowledged weariness. I took

The balance, and with firm hand weighed myself.
Of that external scene which round me lay,
Little, in this abstraction, did I see;

Remembered less; but I had inward hopes
And swellings of the spirit, was rapt and soothed,
Conversed with promises, had glimmering views
How life pervades the undecaying mind;
How the immortal soul with Godlike power
Informs, creates, and thaws the deepest sleep
That time can lay upon her; how on earth,
Man, if he do but live within the light
Of high endeavours, daily spreads abroad
His being armed with strength that cannot fail.
Nor was there want of milder thoughts, of love
Of innocence, and holiday repose;
And more than pastoral quiet, 'mid the stir
Of boldest projects, and a peaceful end
At last, or glorious, by endurance won.
Thus musing, in a wood I sat me down
Alone, continuing there to muse: the slopes
And heights meanwhile were slowly overspread
With darkness, and before a rippling breeze
The long lake lengthened out its hoary line,
And in the sheltered coppice where I sat,
Around me from among the hazel leaves,
Now here, now there, moved by the straggling wind,
Came ever and anon a breath-like sound,
Quick as the pantings of the faithful dog,
The off and on companion of my walk;
And such, at times, believing them to be,
I turned my head to look if he were there;
Then into solemn thought I passed once more.

A freshness also found I at this time In human Life, the daily life of those

Whose occupations really I loved;

The peaceful scene oft filled me with surprise
Changed like a garden in the heat of spring
After an eight days' absence. For (to omit
The things which were the same and yet appeared
Far otherwise) amid this rural solitude,

A narrow Vale where each was known to all,
"Twas not indifferent to a youthful mind
To mark some sheltering bower or sunny nook,
Where an old man had used to sit alone,
Now vacant; pale-faced babes whom I had left
In arms, now rosy prattlers at the feet
Of a pleased grandame tottering up and down;
And growing girls whose beauty, filched away
With all its pleasant promises, was gone
To deck some slighted playmate's homely cheek.

Yes, I had something of a subtler sense,
And often looking round was moved to smiles
Such as a delicate work of humour breeds;
I read, without design, the opinions, thoughts,
Of those plain-living people now observed
With clearer knowledge; with another eye
I saw the quiet woodman in the woods,
The shepherd roam the hills. With new delight,
This chiefly, did I note my grey-haired Dame;
Saw her go forth to church or other work
Of state, equipped in monumental trim;
Short velvet cloak, (her bonnet of the like,)
A mantle such as Spanish Cavaliers

Wore in old time. Her smooth domestic life,
Affectionate without disquietude,

Her talk, her business, pleased me; and no less
Her clear though shallow stream of piety
That ran on Sabbath days a fresher course;
With thoughts unfelt till now I saw her read
Her Bible on hot Sunday afternoons,

And loved the book, when she had dropped asleep
And made of it a pillow for her head.

Nor less do I remember to have felt,
Distinctly manifested at this time,
A human-heartedness about my love
For objects hitherto the absolute wealth
Of my own private being and no more:
Which I had loved, even as a blessed spirit
Or Angel, if he were to dwell on earth,
Might love in individual happiness.
But now there opened on me other thoughts
Of change, congratulation or regret,

A pensive feeling! It spread far and wide;
The trees, the mountains shared it, and the brooks,
The stars of Heaven, now seen in their old haunts-
White Sirius glittering o'er the southern crags,
Orion with his belt, and those fair Seven,
Acquaintances of every little child,
And Jupiter, my own beloved star!
Whatever shadings of mortality,
Whatever imports from the world of death

Had come among these objects heretofore,
Were, in the main, of mood less tender; strong,
Deep, gloomy were they, and severe; the scattering
Of awe or tremulous dread, that had given way
In later youth to yearnings of a love
Enthusiastic, to delight and hope.

As one who hangs down-bending from the side Of a slow-moving boat, upon the breast Of a still water, solacing himself With such discoveries as his eye can make Beneath him in the bottom of the deep, Sees many beauteous sights-weeds, fishes, flowers Grots, pebbles, roots of trees, and fancies more, Yet often is perplexed and cannot part The shadow from the substance, rocks and sky, Mountains and clouds, reflected in the depth Of the clear flood, from things which there able In their true dwelling; now is crossed by gleam Of his own image, by a sunbeam now, And wavering motions sent he knows not whence, Impediments that make his task more sweet; Such pleasant office have we long pursued Incumbent o'er the surface of past time With like success, nor often have appeared Shapes fairer or less doubtfully discerned Than these to which the tale, indulgent Friend! Would now direct thy notice. Yet in spite Of pleasure won and knowledge not withheld, There was an inner falling off- I loved, Loved deeply all that had been loved before, More deeply even than ever: but a swarm Of heady schemes jostling each other, gawds, And feast and dance, and public revelry, And sports and games (too grateful in themselves Yet in themselves less grateful I believe, Than as they were a badge glossy and fresh Of manliness and freedom) all conspired To lure my mind from firm habitual quest Of feeding pleasures, to depress the zeal And damp those yearnings which had once been me A wild, unworldly-minded youth, given up To his own eager thoughts. It would demand Some skill, and longer time than may be spared, To paint these vanities, and how they wrought In haunts where they, till now, had been unkno va It seemed the very garments that I wore Preyed on my strength, and stopped the quiet stream Of self-forgetfulness.

Yes, that heartless chase Of trivial pleasures was a poor exchange For books and nature at that early age. 'Tis true, some casual knowledge might be gained Of character or life; but at that time, Of manners put to school I took small note, And all my deeper passions lay elsewhere. Far better had it been to exalt the mind By solitary study, to uphold

Intense desire through meditative peace;