ON REVISITING DUNOLLY CASTLE.

361

XXV.

ON REVISITING DUNOLLY CASTLE.*

(See former series, "Yarrow Revisited," &c., p. 281.)

THE captive Bird was gone;-to cliff or moor
Perchance had flown, delivered by the storm ;
Or he had pined, and sunk to feed the worm:
Him found we not: but, climbing a tall tower,
There saw, impaved with rude fidelity

Of art mosaic, in a roofless floor,1

An Eagle with stretched wings, but beamless eye-
An Eagle that could neither wail nor soar.
Effigy of the Vanished-(shall I dare
To call thee so?) or symbol of fierce deeds
And of the towering courage which past times
Rejoiced intake, whate'er thou be, a share,3

That towering courage, and the savage deeds

Those times were proud of, take Thou too a share, 1835.

Their towering courage, and the savage deeds
Which they were proud of,

MS.

This ingenious piece of workmanship, as I afterwards learned, had been executed for their own amusement by some labourers employed about the place.-W. W., 1835.

Not undeserved, of the memorial rhymes

That animate my way where'er it leads!

Lieutenant-Colonel M'Dougal of Dunolie writes to me (October 1883) that "the mosaic picture of an eagle-if it may be called so-still exists, though it is rather a rude work of art. I believe it was executed by a gardener, who was here about the time of Wordsworth's visit. It was made of small stones, and is now a good deal overgrown with weeds, moss, &c., as the second story of the old ruin is open to the weather. An eagle was for many years kept in a cage, made against a wall of the ruin, and this no doubt was the cause of the rude picture being made."-ED.

XXVI.

THE DUNOLLY EAGLE.

NOT to the clouds, not to the cliff, he flew ;
But when a storm, on sea or mountain bred,
Came and delivered him, alone he sped
Into the castle-dungeon's darkest mew.
Now, near his master's house in open view
He dwells, and hears indignant tempests howl,
Kennelled and chained. Ye tame domestic fowl,1
Beware of him! Thou, saucy cockatoo,

Look to thy plumage and thy life!The roe,
Fleet as the west wind, is for him no quarry ;

Balanced in ether he will never tarry,

Eyeing the sea's blue depths. Poor Bird! even so
Doth man of brother man a creature make

That clings to slavery for its own sad sake.

1 1855.

Ye tame villatic Fowl.

MS

WRITTEN IN A BLANK LEAF OF MACPHERSON'S OSSIAN. 363

From hope and promise, self-betrayed.

were, I am sorry to say, suggested from apprehensions of the fate of my friend, H. C.,† the subject of the verses addressed to H. C. when six years old. The piece to "Memory" arose out of similar feelings.+]

OFT have I caught, upon a fitful breeze,1

Fragments of far-off melodies,

With ear not coveting the whole,

A part so charmed the pensive soul:
While a dark storm before my sight
Was yielding, on a mountain height
Loose vapours have I watched, that won
Prismatic colours from the sun;

Nor felt a wish that heaven would show

The image of its perfect bow.

What need, then, of these finished Strains?

Away with counterfeit Remains!

An abbey in its lone recess,

A temple of the wilderness,

Wrecks though they be, announce with feeling
The majesty of honest dealing.

1

1832.

caught from fitful breeze

1827.

* This Poem was first published amongst the Poems of Sentiment and Reflection in the edition of 1827. In the edition of 1836 Wordsworth gave

1824 as the year of its composition.-ED.

+ Hartley Coleridge.-ED.

See p. 104.-ED.

364 WRITTEN IN A BLANK LEAF OF MACPHERSON'S OSSIAN.

Spirit of Ossian! if imbound

In language thou may'st yet be found,

If aught (intrusted to the pen

Or floating on the tongues of men,
Albeit shattered and impaired)
Subsist thy dignity to guard,

In concert with memorial claim

Of old grey stone, and high-born name
That cleaves to rock or pillared cave

Where moans the blast, or beats the wave,

Let Truth, stern arbitress of all,

Interpret that Original,

And for presumptuous wrongs atone;-
Authentic works be given, or none !

Time is not blind;-yet He, who spares

Pyramid pointing to the stars,
Hath preyed with ruthless appetite

On all that marked the primal flight

Of the poetic ecstasy

Into the land of mystery.

No tongue is able to rehearse

One measure, Orpheus! of thy verse ;*

Musæus, stationed with his lyre

Supreme among the Elysian quire,

Is, for the dwellers upon earth

Mute as a lark ere morning's birth.†

Why grieve for these, though past away
The music, and extinct the lay?

*The Genuine Orphic Literature includes some Hymns, a Theogony, Oracles, Songs, and Sacred Legends, iepòɩ Adyoɩ: but none have come down to modern times. The Orphica which have survived are spurious.—ED.

None of the fragments attributed to Musæus by the ancients-the Χρησμοί, Υποθῆκαι, Θεογονία, &c.-have survived. ED.

WRITTEN IN A BLANK LEAF OF MACPHERSON'S OSSIAN. 365

1

When thousands, by severer doom,
Full early to the silent tomb

Have sunk, at Nature's call; or strayed
From hope and promise, self-betrayed;
The garland withering on their brows;
Stung1 with remorse for broken vows;
Frantic else how might they rejoice?
And friendless, by their own sad choice!

Hail, Bards of mightier grasp! on you
I chiefly call, the chosen Few,
Who cast not off the acknowledged guide,
Who faltered not, nor turned aside;
Whose lofty genius could survive
Privation, under sorrow thrive;
In whom the fiery Muse revered
The symbol of a snow-white beard,
Bedewed with meditative tears

1832.

Dropped from the lenient cloud of years.

Brothers in soul! though distant times.
Produced you nursed in various climes,
Ye, when the orb of life had waned,
A plenitude of love retained:
Hence, while in you each sad regret
By corresponding hope was met,
Ye lingered among human kind,
Sweet voices for the passing wind;
Departing sunbeams, loth to stop,
Though smiling on the last hill top !*

Stand

Compare

"There is an Eminence,-of these our hills
The last to parley with the setting sun.

1827.

Vol. II. p. 161.—Ed.