LIKE a shipwrecked Sailor tost
By rough waves on a perilous coast,
Lies the Babe, in helplessness
And in tenderest nakedness,
Flung by labouring nature forth
Upon the mercies of the earth.
Can its eyes beseech? - no more
Than the hands are free to implore:
Voice but serves for one brief cry;
Plaint was it? or prophecy
Of sorrow that will surely come?
Omen of man's grievous doom!
But, O Mother! by the close
Duly granted to thy throes;
By the silent thanks, now tending
Incense-like to Heaven, descending
Now to mingle and to move
With the gush of earthly love,
As a debt to that frail Creature,
Instrument of struggling Nature
For the blissful calm, the peace
Known but to this one release ·
Can the pitying spirit doubt
That for human-kind springs out
From the penalty a sense

Of more than mortal recompence ?
As a floating summer cloud,
Though of gorgeous drapery proud,
To the sun-burnt traveller,
Or the stooping labourer,
Oft-times makes its bounty known
By its shadow round him thrown;
So, by chequerings of sad cheer,
Heavenly Guardians, brooding near,
Of their presence tell — too bright
Haply for corporeal sight!
Ministers of grace divine
Feelingly their brows incline
O'er this seeming Castaway
Breathing, in the light of day,
Something like the faintest breath
That has power to baffle death
Beautiful, while very weakness
Captivates like passive meekness.

And, sweet Mother! under warrant
Of the universal Parent,
Who repays in season due

Them who have, like thee, been true
To the filial chain let down
From his everlasting throne,
Angels hovering round thy couch,
With their softest whispers vouch,
That whatever griefs may fret,
Cares entangle, sins beset,

This thy First-born, and with tears

Stain her cheek in future years-
Heavenly succour, not denied
To the babe, whate'er betide,
Will to the woman be supplied!

Mother! blest be thy calm ease;
Blest the starry promises,
And the firmament benign

Hallowed be it, where they shine!
Yes, for them whose souls have scope
Ample for a winged hope,

And can earthward bend an ear
For needful listening, pledge is here,
That, if thy new-born Charge shall tread
In thy footsteps, and be led
By that other Guide, whose light
Of manly virtues, mildly bright,
Gave him first the wished-for part
In thy gentle virgin heart;
Then, amid the storms of life
Presignified by that dread strife
Whence ye have escaped together,
She may look for serene weather;
In all trials sure to find

Comfort for a faithful mind;
Kindlier issues, holier rest,

Than even now await her prest,
Conscious Nursling, to thy breast!

THE WARNING

A SEQUEL TO THE FOREGOING

1833. 1835

These lines were composed during the fewer spread through the Nation by the Reform B As the motives which led to this measure, and the good or evil which has attended or has rise from it, will be duly appreciated by fat historians, there is no call for dwelling on t subject in this place. I will content mys with saying that the then condition of t people's mind is not, in these verses, ex gerated.

LIST, the winds of March are blowing; Her ground-flowers shrink, afraid of show. ing

Their meek heads to the nipping air,
Which ye feel not, happy pair!
Sunk into a kindly sleep.

We, meanwhile, our hope will keep;
And if Time leagued with adverse Chang
(Too busy fear!) shall cross its range,
Whatsoever check they bring,

With weary feet by all of woman born) Shall now by such a gift with joy be moved, Nor feel the fulness of that joy reproved? Not He, whose last faint memory will command

The truth that Britain was his native land; Whose infant soul was tutored to confide In the cleansed faith for which her martyrs died;

Whose boyish ear the voice of her renown With rapture thrilled; whose Youth revered the crown

Of Saxon liberty that Alfred wore,
Alfred, dear Babe, thy great Progenitor! 60
Not He, who from her mellowed practice

100

Nor turn aside, unless to shape a way
For domination at some riper day;
If generous Loyalty must stand in awe
Of subtle Treason, in his mask of law,
Or with bravado insolent and hard,
Provoking punishment, to win reward;
If office help the factious to conspire,
And they who should extinguish, fan the
fire

course!

may the Almighty scatter with his grace These mists, and lead you to a safer place, By paths no human wisdom can foretrace! May He pour round you, from worlds fr above

Man's feverish passions, his pure light f love,

That quietly restores the natural mien To hope, and makes truth willing to be seen Else shall your blood-stained hands frenzy reap

Fields gaily sown when promises were cheap.

Why is the Past belied with wicked art, The Future made to play so false a part Among a people famed for strength a mind,

Foremost in freedom, noblest of mankind" We act as if we joyed in the sad tune Storms make in rising, valued in the mot Nought but her changes. Thus, ungrate ful Nation!

If thou persist, and scorning moderation, Spread for thyself the snares of tribulatic Whom, then, shall meekness guard? W saving skill

Lie in forbearance, strength in standa still?

Soon shall the widow (for the speed

"IF THIS GREAT WORLD OF JOY AND PAIN"

1833. 1835

If this great world of joy and pain
Revolve in one sure track;
If freedom, set, will rise again,
And virtue, flown, come back;
Woe to the purblind crew who fill
The heart with each day's care;
Nor gain, from past or future, skill
To bear, and to forbear!

ON A HIGH PART OF THE
COAST OF CUMBERLAND

Easter Sunday, April 7

THE AUTHOR'S SIXTY-THIRD BIRTHDAY 1833. 1835

The lines were composed on the road between Moresby and Whitehaven while I was on a visit to my son, then rector of the former place. This and some other Voluntaries originated in the concluding lines of the last paragraph of this poem. With this coast I have been familiar from my earliest childhood, and remember being struck for the first time by the town and port of Whitehaven, and the white waves breaking against its quays and piers, as the whole came into view from the top of the high ground down which the road (it has since been altered) then descended abruptly. My sister, when she first heard the voice of the sea from this point, and beheld the scene spread before her, burst into tears. Our family then lived at Cockermouth, and this fact was often mentioned among us as indicating the sensibility for which she was so remarkable.

THE Sun, that seemed so mildly to retire, Flung back from distant climes a streaming fire,

Whose blaze is now subdued to tender gleams,

Prelude of night's approach with soothing

dreams.

Look round; - of all the clouds not one is moving;

'Tis the still hour of thinking, feeling, loving.

Silent, and stedfast as the vaulted sky, The boundless plain of waters seems to lie:

Comes that low sound from breezes rustling o'er

The grass-crowned headland that conceals the shore ?

No; 't is the earth-voice of the mighty sea, Whispering how meek and gentle he can be! Thou Power supreme! who, arming to rebuke

Offenders, dost put off the gracious look, And clothe thyself with terrors like the flood

Of ocean roused into its fiercest mood,
Whatever discipline thy Will ordain
For the brief course that must for me re-
main;

Teach me with quick-eared spirit to rejoice
In admonitions of thy softest voice!
Whate'er the path these mortal feet may
trace,

Breathe through my soul the blessing of thy grace,

Glad, through a perfect love, a faith sincere Drawn from the wisdom that begins with