Shalt change thy temper; and, with many a shock
Given and received in mutual jeopardy,

Dance like a Bacchanal, from rock to rock,
Tossing her frantic thyrsus wide and high !

XXVI.

RETURN, Content! for fondly I pursued,

Even when a child, the Streams—unheard, unseen ;
Through tangled woods, impending rocks between ;
Or, free as air, with flying inquest viewed

The sullen reservoirs whence their bold brood-
Pure as the morning, fretful, boisterous, keen,
Green as the salt-sea billows, white and green—
Poured down the hills, a choral multitude!
Nor have I tracked their course for scanty gains;
They taught me random cares and truant joys,
That shield from mischief and preserve from stains
Vague minds, while men are growing out of boys;
Maturer Fancy owes to their rough noise
Impetuous thoughts that brook not servile reins.

XXVIII.

JOURNEY RENEWED. (67)

I ROSE while yet the cattle, heat-opprest,
Crowded together under rustling trees
Brushed by the current of the water-breeze;
And for their sakes, and love of all that rest,
On Duddon's margin, in the sheltering nest;
For all the startled scaly tribes that slink
Into his coverts, and each fearless link
Of dancing insects forged upon his breast;
For these, and hopes and recollections worn
Close to the vital seat of human clay;
Glad meetings, tender partings, that upstay
The drooping mind of absence, by vows sworn
In his pure presence near the trysting thorn-
I thanked the Leader of my onward way.

XXXII.

NOT hurled precipitous from steep to steep;
Lingering no more 'mid flower-enamelled lands
And blooming thickets; nor by rocky bands
Held; but in radiant progress toward the Deep
Where mightiest rivers into powerless sleep
Sink and forget their nature-now expands
Majestic Duddon, over smooth flat sands
Gliding in silence with unfettered sweep!
Beneath an ampler sky a region wide

Is opened round him :-hamlets, towers, and towns,
And blue-topped hills, behold him from afar ;
In stately mien to sovereign Thames allied
Spreading his bosom under Kentish downs,
With commerce freighted, or triumphant war.

XXXIII.

CONCLUSION.

BUT here no cannon thunders to the gale;
Upon the wave no haughty pendants cast
A crimson splendour: lowly is the mast
That rises here, and humbly spread, the sail;
While, less disturbed than in the narrow Vale
Through which with strange vicissitudes he passed,
The Wanderer seeks that receptacle vast
Where all his unambitious functions fail.

And may thy Poet, cloud-born Stream! be free-
The sweets of earth contentedly resigned,
And each tumultuous working left behind
At seemly distance-to advance like Thee;
Prepared, in peace of heart, in calm of mind
And soul, to mingle with Eternity!

XXXIV.

AFTER-THOUGHT.

I THOUGHT of Thee, my partner and my guide,
As being past away.—Vain sympathies !

For, backward, Duddon! as I cast my eyes,
I see what was, and is, and will abide;
Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide;
The Form remains, the Function never dies;
While we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise,
We Men, who in our morn of youth defied
The elements, must vanish ;—be it so!

Enough, if something from our hands have power
To live, and act, and serve the future hour;
And if, as toward the silent tomb we go,

Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent
dower,

We feel that we are greater than we know.

"MAN'S life is like a Sparrow, mighty King!
"That-while at banquet with your Chiefs you sit
"Housed near a blazing fire-is seen to flit
"Safe from the wintry tempest. Fluttering,
"Here did it enter; there, on hasty wing,
"Flies out, and passes on from cold to cold;
"But whence it came we know not, nor behold
"Whither it goes. Even such, that transient Thing,
"The human Soul; not utterly unknown

"While in the Body lodged, her warm abode ;
"But from what world She came, what woe or weal
"On her departure waits, no tongue hath shown;

"This mystery if the Stranger can reveal,

"His be a welcome cordially bestowed!"

Composed 1821.

CANUTE.

Published 1822.

A PLEASANT music floats along the Mere,
From Monks in Ely chanting service high,
While as Canùte the King is rowing by :

"My Oarsmen," quoth the mighty King, “draw near,
"That we the sweet song of the Monks may hear!"
He listens (all past conquests and all schemes
Of future vanishing like empty dreams)
Heart-touched, and haply not without a tear.
The Royal Minstrel, ere the choir is still,

While his free Barge skims the smooth flood along,
Gives to that rapture a memorial Rhyme.
O suffering Earth! be thankful; sternest clime
And rudest age are subject to the thrill

Of heaven-descended Piety and Song.

Composed 1821.

WALDENSES.

Published'1822.

THOSE had given earliest notice, as the lark
Springs from the ground the morn to gratulate;
Or rather rose the day to antedate,

By striking out a solitary spark,

When all the world with midnight gloom was dark.—-
At length come those Waldensian bands, whom Hate
In vain endeavours to exterminate,

Whom Obloquy pursues with hideous bark:

Meanwhile the unextinguishable fire,

Rekindled thus, from dens and savage woods

Moves, handed on with never-ceasing care,

Through courts, through camps, o'er limitary floods;
Nor lacks this sea-girt Isle a timely share

Of the new Flame, not suffered to expire.

Q

Composed 1821.

WALTON'S BOOK OF LIVES.

Published 1822.

THERE are no colours in the fairest sky

So fair as these. The feather, whence the pen
Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men,
Dropped from an Angel's wing. With moistened eye
We read of faith and purest charity

In Statesman, Priest, and humble Citizen :

O could we copy their mild virtues, then
What joy to live, what blessedness to die!

Methinks their very names shine still and bright;
Apart-like glow-worms on a summer night;
Or lonely tapers when from far they fling

A guiding ray; or seen-like stars on high,
Satellites burning in a lucid ring

Around meek Walton's heavenly memory.

Composed 1821.

Published 182 2.

Down a swift Stream, thus far, a bold design
Have we pursued, with livelier stir of heart
Than his who sees, borne forward by the Rhine,
The living landscapes greet him, and depart;
Sees spires fast sinking-up again to start!
And strives the towers to number, that recline
O'er the dark steeps, or on the horizon line
Striding with shattered crests his eye athwart.
So have we hurried on with troubled pleasure:
Henceforth, as on the bosom of a stream
That slackens, and spreads wide a watery gleam,
We, nothing loth a lingering course to measure,
May gather up our thoughts, and mark at leisure
Features that else had vanished like a dream.