Of Spirits in beatitude: my heart
Swelled in my breast-'I have been dead,' I cried,
'And now I live! Oh! wherefore do I live?' And with that pang I prayed to be no more!-- -But I forget our Charge, as utterly
I then forgot him :-there I stood and gazed: The apparition faded not away,
Having reached the house, I found its rescued inmate safely lodged, And in serene possession of himself,
Beside a fire whose genial warmth seemed met By a faint shining from the heart, a gleam, Of comfort, spread over his pallid face.
Great show of joy the housewife made, and truly Was glad to find her conscience set at ease; And not less glad, for sake of her good name, That the poor Sufferer had escaped with life. But, though he seemed at first to have received No harm, and uncomplaining as before Went through his usual tasks, a silent change Soon showed itself: he lingered three short weeks; And from the cottage hath been borne to-day.
So ends my dolorous tale, and glad I am That it is ended." At these words he turned- And, with blithe air of open fellowship,
Brought from the cupboard wine and stouter cheer, Like one who would be merry. Seeing this, My grey-haired Friend said courteously-" Nay, nay, You have regaled us as a hermit ought;
Now let us forth into the sun!"-Our Host Rose, though reluctantly, and forth we went.
Images in the Valley-Another Recess in it entered and describedWanderer's sensations-Solitary's excited by the same objects-Contrast between these-Despondency of the Solitary gently reprovedConversation exhibiting the Solitary's past and present opinions and feelings, till he enters upon his own History at length-His domestic felicity-Afflictions-Dejection-Roused by the French Revolution -Disappointment and disgust-Voyage to America-Disappointment and disgust pursue him-His return-His languor and depression of mind, from want of faith in the great truths of Religion, and want of confidence in the virtue of Mankind.
A HUMMING BEE—a little tinkling rill A pair of falcons wheeling on the wing, In clamorous agitation, round the crest Of a tall rock, their airy citadel— By each and all of these the pensive ear Was greeted, in the silence that ensued,
When through the cottage-threshold we had passed, And, deep within that lonesome valley, stood Once more beneath the concave of a blue And cloudless sky.-Anon exclaimed our Host- Triumphantly dispersing with the taunt
The shade of discontent which on his brow Had gathered," Ye have left my cell,-but see How Nature hems you in with friendly arms! And by her help ye are my prisoners still. But which way shall I lead you ?-how contrive, In spot so parsimoniously endowed,
That the brief hours, which yet remain, may reap Some recompense of knowledge or delight? So saying, round he looked, as if perplexed;
And, to remove those doubts, my grey-haired Friend Said "Shall we take this pathway for our guide ?— Upward it winds, as if, in summer heats,
Its line had first been fashioned by the flock Seeking a place of refuge at the root
Of yon black Yew-tree, whose protruded boughs Darken the silver bosom of the crag,
From which she draws her meagre sustenance. There in commodious shelter may we rest. Or let us trace this streamlet to its source; Feebly it tinkles with an earthy sound, And a few steps may bring us to the spot Where, haply, crowned with flowerets and green herbs, The mountain infant to the sun comes forth, Like human life from darkness."—A quick turn Through a strait passage of encumbered ground, Proved that such hope was vain :-for now we stood Shut out from prospect of the open vale, And saw the water, that composed this rill, Descending, disembodied, and diffused O'er the smooth surface of an ample crag, Lofty, and steep, and naked as a tower.
All further progress here was barred ;—And who, Thought I, if master of a vacant hour,
Here would not linger, willingly detained? Whether to such wild objects he were led When copious rains have magnified the stream Into a loud and white-robed waterfall,
Or introduced at this more quiet time.
Upon a semicirque of turf-clad ground, The hidden nook discovered to our view A mass of rock, resembling, as it lay Right at the foot of that moist precipice, A stranded ship, with keel upturned, that rests Fearless of winds and waves. Three several stones
Stood near, of smaller size, and not unlike
To monumental pillars: and, from these Some little space disjoined, a pair were seen, That with united shoulders bore aloft A fragment, like an altar, flat and smooth: Barren the tablet, yet thereon appeared A tall and shining holly, that had found A hospitable chink, and stood upright, As if inserted by some human hand In mockery, to wither in the sun, Or lay its beauty flat before a breeze,
The first that entered. But no breeze did now Find entrance;-high or low appeared no trace Of motion, save the water that descended, Diffused adown that barrier of steep rock, And softly creeping, like a breath of air, Such as is sometimes seen, and hardly seen, To brush the still breast of a crystal lake.
“Behold a cabinet for sages built,
Which kings might envy!"-Praise to this effect Broke from the happy old Man's reverend lip; Who to the Solitary turned, and said, "In sooth, with love's familiar privilege, You have decried the wealth which is your own. Among these rocks and stones, methinks, I see More than the heedless impress that belongs
To lonely nature's casual work: they bear A semblance strange of power intelligent, And of design not wholly worn away. Boldest of plants that ever faced the wind, How gracefully that slender shrub looks forth From its fantastic birth-place! And I own, Some shadowy intimations haunt me here, That in these shows a chronicle survives
Of purposes akin to those of Man,
But wrought with mightier arm than now prevails. -Voiceless the stream descends into the gulf With timid lapse;-and lo! while in this strait I stand-the chasm of sky above my head Is heaven's profoundest azure; no domain For fickle, short-lived clouds to occupy, Or to pass through; but rather an abyss In which the everlasting stars abide;
And whose soft gloom, and boundless depth, might tempt The curious eye to look for them by day.
-Hail Contemplation! from the stately towers, Reared by the industrious hand of human art To lift thee high above the misty air
And turbulence of murmuring cities vast; From academic groves, that have for thee Been planted, hither come and find a lodge To which thou mayst resort for holier peace,— From whose calm centre thou, through height or depth, Mayst penetrate, wherever truth shall lead; Measuring through all degrees, until the scale Of time and conscious nature disappear, Lost in unsearchable eternity!"
A pause ensued; and with minuter care
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