XVIII SEATHWAITE CHAPEL 1820 1820 SACRED Religion! "mother of form and fear,” New rites ordaining when the old are wrecked, Mother of Love! (that name best suits thee here) XIX TRIBUTARY STREAM 1820 1820 My frame hath often trembled with delight Of yon pure waters, from their aëry height On the calm depth of his transparent breast, More lulling than the busy hum of Noon, Dewy and fresh, till showers again shall fall. XX THE PLAIN OF DONNERDALE 1820 1820 THE old inventive Poets, had they seen, Had beautified Elysium! But these chains Will soon be broken; — a rough course remains, Rough as the past; where Thou, of placid mien, Innocuous as a firstling of the flock, And countenanced like a soft cerulean sky, Shalt change thy temper; and, with many a shock Dance, like a Bacchanal, from rock to rock, XXI 1820 1820 WHENCE that low voice? A whisper from the heart, That told of days long past, when here I roved By Duddon's side; once more do we unite, XXII TRADITION 1820 1820 A LOVE-LORN Maid, at some far-distant time, And, gazing, saw that Rose, which from the prime Of echo doth reverberate some sweet sound: The starry treasure from the blue profound She longed to ravish; — shall she plunge, or climb The humid precipice, and seize the guest Of April, smiling high in upper air? Desperate alternative! what fiend could dare To prompt the thought? - Upon the steep rock's breast The lonely Primrose yet renews its bloom, |