XXXVII. INTENT on gathering wool from hedge and brake Yon busy Little-ones rejoice that soon A poor old Dame will bless them for the boon: Great is their glee while flake they add to flake With rival earnestness; far other strife Than will hereafter move them, if they make Pastime their idol, give their day of life To pleasure snatched for reckless pleasure's sake. Can pomp and show allay one heart-born grief? Pains which the World inflicts can she requite? Not for an interval however brief; The silent thoughts that search for stedfast light, Love from her depths, and Duty in her might, And Faith-these only yield secure relief. March 8th, 1842. XXXVIII. A PLEA FOR AUTHORS, MAY 1838. FAILING impartial measure to dispense To every suitor, Equity is lame; And social Justice, stript of reverence For natural rights, a mockery and a shame; Law but a servile dupe of false pretence, If, guarding grossest things from common claim Now and for ever, She, to works that came From mind and spirit, grudge a short-lived fence. "What! lengthened privilege, a lineal tie, For Books!" Yes, heartless Ones, or be it proved That 'tis a fault in Us to have lived and loved Like others, with like temporal hopes to die; No public harm that Genius from her course Be turned; and streams of truth dried up, even at their source! XXXIX. 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 beIf in this book Fancy and Truth agree; If simple Nature trained by careful Art Through It have won a passage to thy heart; Grant me thy love, I crave no other fee! XL. TO THE REV. CHRISTOPHER WORDSWORTH, D.D. MASTER OF HARROW SCHOOL, 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. XLI. 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 In power, where once he trembled in his weakness; 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? XLII. WANSFELL!* this Household has a favoured lot, How in thy pensive glooms our hearts found rest. Dec. 24, 1842. *The Hill that rises to the south-east, above Ambleside. 1 XLIII. Who scorns a false utilitarian lure WHILE beams of orient light shoot wide and high, Baffle the threat, bright Scene, from Orrest-head Deep in the vale a little rural Town* Breathes forth a cloud-like creature of its own, Bot, with a less ambitious sympathy, Jun 1, 1843. XLIV. Is my mind's eye a Temple, like a cloud Fara had her arch-her arch, when winds blow loud, XLV. OF THE PROJECTED KENDAL AND WINDERMERE Isten no nook of English ground secure From rash assault !+ Schemes of retirement sown in youth, and mid the busy world kept pure As when their earliest flowers of hope were blown, |_ Must perish ;—how can they this blight endure? Asi mast he too the ruthless change bemoan • The degree and kind of attachment which many of the permanry feel to their small inheritances can scarcely be verd. Near the house of one of them stands a magI sort one, which a neighbour of the owner advised him a fel! for profit's sake. "Fell it!" exclaimed the yeoman, I had rather fall on my knees and worship it." It happens, I be.ee, that the intended railway would pass through Sa Litle property, and I hope that an apology for the sower il sot be thought necessary by one who enters 130 tõe strength of the feeling. Given to the pausing traveller's rapturous glance: Of nature; and, if human hearts be dead, XLVI. PROUD were ye, Mountains, when, in times of old, XLVII. AT FURNESS ABBEY. HERE, where, of havoc tired and rash undoing, And, on the mouldered walls, how bright, how gay, Where, Cavendish, thine seems nothing but a name! XLVIII. AT FURNESS ABBEY. WELL have yon Railway Labourers to THIS ground Withdrawn for noontide rest. They sit, they walk Among the Ruins, but no idle talk Is heard; to grave demeanour all are bound; And from one voice a Hymn with tuneful sound Hallows once more the long-deserted Quire FROM THE VALE OF GRASMERE. AUGUST, 1803. THE gentlest Shade that walked Elysian plains To see how things are made and managed there. Power in my breast, wings growing in my mind, Then why these lingering steps?-A bright adieu, For a brief absence, proves that love is true; II. AT THE GRAVE OF BURNS. 1803. SEVEN YEARS AFTER HIS DEATH. I SHIVER, Spirit fierce and bold, So sadness comes from out the mould And have I then thy bones so near, And both my wishes and my fear Off weight—nor press on weight!—away Dark thoughts!-they came, but not to stay; With chastened feelings would I pay The tribute due To him, and aught that hides his clay Fresh as the flower, whose modest worth Doth glorify its humble birth With matchless beams. The piercing eye, the thoughtful brow, The prompt, the brave, Slept, with the obscurest, in the low |