The heart that loved her: 't is her privilege,
Through all the years of this our life, to lead
From joy to joy; for she can so inform
The mind that is within us, so impress
With quietness and beauty, and so feed
With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues,
Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men,
Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all
The dreary intercourse of daily life,
Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturbi
Our cheerful faith that all which we behold
Is full of blessings. Therefore let the moon
Shine on thee in thy solitary walk,

And let the misty mountain winds be free
To blow against thee; and in after years,
When these wild ecstasies shall be matured
Into a sober pleasure, when thy mind
Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms,
Thy memory be as a dwelling-place

For all sweet sounds and harmonies, O, then,
If solitude or fear or pain or grief

Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts
Of tender joy wilt thou remember me

And these my exhortations! Nor perchance,

If I should be where I no more can hear

Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams

Of past existence, wilt thou then forget

That on the banks of this delightful stream
We stood together; and that I, so long
A worshipper of Nature, hither came
Unwearied in that service rather say
With warmer love-O, with far deeper zeal
Of holier love! Nor wilt thou then forget,
That after many wanderings, many years
Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs,

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And this green pastoral landscape, were to me

More dear, both for themselves and for thy sake. 160

'SHE DWELT AMONG THE UNTRODDEN WAYS.'

SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways

Beside the springs of Dove,

A maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:

A violet by a mossy stone

Half hidden from the eye !-—

Fair as a star, when only one

Is shining in the sky.

She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;

But she is in her grave, and, O,

The difference to me!

'I TRAVELLED AMONG UNKNOWN MEN.'

I TRAVELLED among unknown men,

In lands beyond the sea;

Nor, England, did I know till then
What love I bore to thee!

'Tis past, that melancholy dream!
Nor will I quit thy shore

A second time; for still I seem
To love thee more and more.

Among thy mountains did I feel

The joy of my desire;

And she I cherished turned her wheel
Beside an English fire.

Thy mornings showed, thy nights concealed
The bowers where Lucy played;
And thine too is the last green field
That Lucy's eyes surveyed.

"THREE YEARS SHE GREW.'

THREE years she grew in sun and shower,
Then Nature said, ‘A lovelier flower
On earth was never sown!

This child I to myself will take;

She shall be mine, and I will make
A lady of my own.

'Myself will to my darling be
Both law and impulse; and with me
The girl, in rock and plain,

In earth and heaven, in glade and bower,
Shall feel an overseeing power

To kindle or restrain.

'She shall be sportive as the fawn
That wild with glee across the lawn
Or up the mountain springs;

And hers shall be the breathing balm,
And hers the silence and the calm

Of mute insensate things.

'The floating clouds their state shall lend To her, for her the willow bend

d;

Nor shall she fail to see
Even in the motions of the storm

Grace that shall mould the maiden's form
By silent sympathy.

'The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place

Where rivulets dance their wayward round,

And beauty born of murmuring sound
Shall pass into her face.

'And vital feelings of delight

Shall rear her form to stately height,

Her virgin bosom swell;

Such thoughts to Lucy I will give

While she and I together live

Here in this happy dell.'

Thus Nature spake.—The work was done-
How soon my Lucy's race was run!

She died, and left to me

This heath, this calm and quiet scene;

The memory of what has been,

And never more will be.

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