Beneath her sway, a simple forest cry

Becomes an echo of man's misery.

Blithe ravens croak of death; and when the owl
Tries his two voices for a favourite strain-
Tu-whit-tu-whoo! the unsuspecting fowl
Forebodes mishap or seems but to complain;
Fancy, intent to harass and annoy,
Can thus pervert the evidence of joy.

Through border wilds where naked Indians stray,
Myriads of notes attest her subtle skill;

A feathered task-master cries, "WORK AWAY!"
And, in thy iteration, " WHIP POOR WILL!"*
Is heard the spirit of a toil-worn slave,
Lashed out of life, not quiet in the grave.

What wonder? at her bidding, ancient lays
Steeped in dire grief the voice of Philomel;
And that fleet messenger of summer days,
The Swallow, twittered subject to like spell;
But ne'er could Fancy bend the buoyant Lark
To melancholy service-hark! O hark!

The daisy sleeps upon the dewy lawn,
Not lifting yet the head that evening bowed;
But He is risen, a later star of dawn,

Glittering and twinkling near yon rosy cloud;

* See Waterton's Wanderings in Sonth America.-W. W. Compare the reference to the "Melancholy Muccawis" in The Excursion, Book III., 1. 953 (Vol. V. p. 142), and the notes p. 142, and appendix notes E and L, pp. 417-419 and 434. When these notes were written,-and the search made by myself and several friends, both in England and America, for the Muccawis, -I had forgotten this reference to "Whip-poor-Will" in the Morning Exercise. Its remembrance would have saved much long and fruitless labour.-ED.

*

A MORNING EXERCISE.

Bright gem instinct with music, vocal spark;
The happiest bird that sprang out of the Ark!

Hail, blest above all kinds -Supremely skilled
Restless with fixed to balance, high with low,
Thou leav'st the halcyon free her hopes to build
On such forbearance as the deep may show ;
Perpetual flight, unchecked by earthly ties,
Leav'st to the wandering bird of paradise.

Faithful, though swift as lightning, the meek dove; Yet more hath Nature reconciled in thee; So constant with thy downward eye of love,

Yet, in aërial singleness, so free; *

So humble, yet so ready to rejoice

In power of wing and never-wearied voice.†

To the last point of vision, and beyond,
Mount, daring warbler!—that love-prompted strain,
(Twixt thee and thine a never-failing bond)
Thrills not the less the bosom of the plain:

Yet might'st thou seem, proud privilege! to sing
All independent of the leafy spring. ‡

How would it please old Ocean to partake,
With sailors longing for a breeze in vain,
The harmony thy notes most gladly make1

1 1836.

The harmony that thou best lovest to make Compare the poem of 1825 to the Skylark

+ Compare

"Type of the wise who soar but never roam,
True to the kindred points of Heaven and home "

"And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest."

1832.

177

-ED.

-SHELLEY, Ode to the Skylark, stanza 2.-Ed. This stanza was transferred from the sonnet "To a Skylark" in 1845. See p. 140.-ED.

Where earth resembles most his own domain !1
Urania's self * might welcome with pleased ear
These matins mounting towards her native sphere.

Chanter by heaven attracted, whom no bars
To daylight known deter from that pursuit,
'Tis well that some sage instinct, when the stars
Come forth at evening, keeps Thee still and mute;
For not an eyelid could to sleep incline

Wert thou among them, singing as they shine!

[Written at Rydal Mount. The girls, Edith Southey, my daughter Dora, and Sara Coleridge.]

SHOW me the noblest Youth of present time,

Whose trembling fancy would to love give birth ;

Some God or Hero, from the Olympian clime

Returned, to seek a Consort upon earth;

Or, in no doubtful prospect, let me see
The brightest star of ages yet to be,
And I will mate and match him blissfully.

I will not fetch a Naiad from a flood

Pure as herself (song lacks not mightier power)
Nor leaf-crowned Dryad from a pathless wood,
Nor Sea-nymph glistening from her coral bower;
Mere Mortals, bodied forth in vision still,

1

1836.

his blank domain !

1832.

The muse who presided over astronomy.-ED.

THE TRIAD.

Shall with Mount Ida's triple lustre fill *
The chaster coverts of a British hill.

Appear!-obey my lyre's command!
Come, like the Graces, hand in hand! †
For ye, though not by birth allied,
Are Sisters in the bond of love;

Nor shall the tongue of envious pride
Presume those interweavings to reprove
In you, which that fair progeny of Jove, ‡
Learned from the tuneful spheres that glide
In endless union, earth and sea above."

179

-I sing 2 in vain ;-the pines have hushed their waving :
A peerless Youth expectant at my side,
Breathless as they, with unabated craving
Looks to the earth, and to the vacant air;

And, with a wandering eye that seems to chide,
Asks of the clouds what occupants they hide :-
But why solicit more than sight could bear,

By casting on a moment all we dare?
Invoke we those bright Beings one by one;

And what was boldly promised, truly shall be done.

And not the boldest tongue of envious pride
In you those interweavings could reprove
Which they, the progency of Jove,

Learnt

1829.

-I speak.

1829.

The Phrygian Ida was a many-branched range of mountains; two subordinate ranges, parting from the principal summit, enclosed Troy as with a crescent. The Cretan Ida terminated in three snowy peaks. There may be a reference to Skiddaw's triple summit in the "British hill."-ED.

The Charites-Aglaia, Thalia, and Euphrosyne-were usually represented with hands joined, as token of graciousness and friendship.-ED.

They were the daughters of Zeus, and were commonly represented as embracing each other.-ED.

"Fear not a constraining measure!
-Yielding to this gentle spell,1
Lucida!* from domes of pleasure,
Or from cottage-sprinkled dell,
Come to regions solitary,

Where the eagle builds her aery,

Above the hermit's long-forsaken cell!"

-She comes-behold

That Figure, like a ship with snow-white sail !
Nearer she draws; a breeze uplifts her veil;
Upon her coming wait

As pure a sunshine and as soft a gale

As e'er, on herbage covering earthly mold,
Tempted the bird of Juno † to unfold

His richest splendour-when his veering gait
And every motion of his starry train
Seem governed by a strain

Of music, audible to him alone.

O Lady, worthy of earth's proudest throne!
Nor less, by excellence of nature, fit
Beside an unambitious hearth to sit

Domestic queen, where grandeur is unknown;
What living man could fear

The worst of Fortune's malice, wert Thou near,
Humbling that lily-stem, thy sceptre meek,
That its fair flowers may from his cheek

2