And the vast hills, in fluctuation fix'd
At thy command, how awful! Shall the Soul, Human and rational, report of Thee
Even less than these?-Be mute who will, who can, Yet will I praise thee with impassion'd voice: My lips, that may forget thee in the crowd, Cannot forget thee here; where Thou hast built, For thy own glory, in the wilderness! Me didst thou constitute a Priest of thine, In such a Temple as we now behold
Rear'd for thy presence: therefore am I bound To worship here and everywhere-as One Not doom'd to ignorance, though forced to tread, From childhood up, the ways of poverty; From unreflecting ignorance preserved, And from debasement rescued.-By thy grace The particle divine remain'd unquench'd: And, 'mid the wild weeds of a rugged soil, Thy bounty caused to flourish deathless flowers, From Paradise transplanted, wintry age Impends; the frost will gather round my heart; And, if they wither, I am worse than dead! -Come, Labour, when the worn-out frame requires Perpetual sabbath; come, disease and want; And sad exclusion through decay of sense; But leave me unabated trust in Thee— And let thy favour, to the end of life, Inspire me with ability to seek Repose and hope among eternal things- Father of heaven and earth! and I am rich, And will possess my portion in content!
<«<And what are things Eternal?-Powers depart,»> The grey-hair'd Wanderer steadfastly replied, Answering the question which himself had ask'd, « Possessions vanish, and opinions change, And Passions hold a fluctuating seat: But, by the storms of circumstance unshaken, And subject neither to eclipse nor wane, Duty exists;-immutably survive, For our support, the measures and the forms, Which an abstract Intelligence supplies;
Whose kingdom is, where Time and Space are not: Of other converse, which mind, soul, and heart, Do, with united urgency, require,
This Universe shall pass away-a work Glorious! because the shadow of thy might, A step, or link, for intercourse with Thee. Ah! if the time must come, in which my feet No more shall stray where Meditation leads, By flowing stream, through wood, or craggy wild, Loved haunts like these, the unprison'd Mind May yet have scope to range among her own, Her thoughts, her images, her high desires. If the dear faculty of sight should fail, Still, it may be allow'd me to remember What visionary powers of eye and soul In youth were mine; when station'd on the top Of some huge hill-expectant, I beheld The Sun rise up, from distant climes return'd Darkness to chase, and sleep, and bring the day His bounteous gift! or saw him toward the Deep Sink-with a retinue of flaming Clouds Attended; then my Spirit was entranced With joy exalted to beatitude;
The measure of my soul was till'd with bliss, And holiest love; as earth, sea, air, with light, With pomp, with glory, with magnificence!
«Those fervent raptures are for ever flown; And, since their date, my Soul hath undergone Change manifold, for better or for worse: Yet cease I not to struggle, and aspire Heavenward; and chide the part of me that flags, Through sinful choice, or dread necessity, On human Nature, from above, imposed.
"T is, by comparison, an easy task
Earth to despise; but, to converse with HeavenThis is not easy to relinquish all
We have, or hope, of happiness and joy,
And stand in freedom loosen'd from this world,
I deem not arduous:—but must reeds confess That 't is a thing impossible to frame Conceptions equal to the Soul's desires; And the most difficult of tasks to keep Heights which the soul is competent to gain. -Man is of dust: ethereal hopes are his, Which, when they should sustain themselves aloft, Want due consistence; like a pillar of smoke, That with majestic energy from earth
What more, that may not perish? Thou, dread Source, Rises; but, having reached the thinner air,
Prime, self-existing Cause and End of all,
That, in the scale of Being, fill their place,
Above our human region, or below,
Set and sustain'd;―Thou-Who didst wrap the cloud Of Infancy around us, that Thyself,
Therein, with our simplicity a while
Mightst hold, on earth, communion undisturb'd- Who from the anarchy of dreaming sleep,
Or from its death-like void, with punctual care, And touch as gentle as the morning light, Restorest us daily to the powers of sense, And reason's steadfast rule-Thou, Thou alone Art everlasting, and the blessed Spirits, Which thou includest, as the Sea her Waves: For adoration thou endurest; endure For consciousness the motious of thy will; For apprehension those transcendant truths Of the pure Intellect, that stand as laws, (Submission constituting strength and power) Even to thy Being's infinite majesty!
Melts, and dissolves, and is no longer seen. From this infirmity of mortal kind Sorrow proceeds, which else were not;—at least, If Grief be something hallowed and ordained, If, in proportion, it be just and meet, Through this, 't is able to maintain its hold, In that excess which Conscience disapproves. For who could sink and settle to that point Of selfishness; so senseless who could be As long and perseveringly to mourn For any Object of his love, removed From this unstable world, if he could fix A satisfying view upon that state Of pure, imperishable blessedness, Which Reason promises, and Holy Writ Ensures to all Believers?—Yet mistrust
Is of such incapacity, methinks,
No natural branch; despondency far less.
-And, if there be whose tender frames have drooped Even to the dust; apparently, through weight
Of anguish unrelieved, and lack of power An agonizing sorrow to transmute, Infer not hence a hope from those withheld When wanted most; a confidence impaired So pitiably, that, having ceased to see
With bodily eyes, they are borne down by love Of what is lost, and perish through regret. Oh no, full oft the innocent Sufferer sees Too clearly; feels too vividly; and longs To realize the Vision, with intense
And overconstant yearning-there-there lies The excess, by which the balance is destroyed. Too, too contracted are these walls of flesh, This vital warmth too cold, these visual orbs, Though inconceivably endowed, too dim For any passion of the soul that leads To ecstasy; and, all the crooked paths
Of time and change disdaining, takes its course Along the line of limitless desires.
I, speaking now from such disorder free,
Nor rapt, nor craving, but in settled peace, I cannot doubt that They whom you deplore Are glorified; or, if they sleep, shall wake From sleep, and dwell with God in endless love. Hope, below this, consists not with belief In mercy, carried infinite degrees Beyond the tenderness of human hearts: Hope, below this, consists not with belief In perfect Wisdom, guiding mightiest Power, That finds no limits but her own pure Will.
Here then we rest: not fearing for our creed The worst that human reasoning can achieve, To unsettle or perplex it: yet with pain Acknowledging, and grievous self-reproach, That, though immovably convinced, we want Zeal, and the virtue to exist by faith
As soldiers live by courage; as, by strength Of heart, the Sailor fights with roaring seas. Alas! the endowment of immortal Power Is matched unequally with custom, time, And domineering faculties of sense In all; in most with superadded foes, Idle temptations-open vanities, Ephemeral offspring of the unblushing world; And, in the private regions of the mind, Ill-governed passions, rauklings of despite, Immoderate wishes, pining discontent,
Distress and care. What then remains?-To seek Those helps, for his occasions ever near, Who lacks not will to use them; vows, renewed On the first motion of a holy thought; Vigils of contemplation; praise; and prayer, A Stream, which, from the fountain of the heart, Issuing, however feebly, nowhere flows Without access of unexpected strength. But, above all, the victory is most sure
For him, who, seeking faith by virtue, strives To yield enure submission to the law
Of Conscience; Conscience reverenced and obeyed, As God's most intimate Presence in the soul, And his most perfect Image in the world. -Endeavour thus to live; these rules regard; These helps solicit; and a steadfast seat Shall then be yours among the happy few Who dwell on earth, yet breathe empyreal air,
Sons of the morning. For your nobler Part, Ere disencumbered of her mortal chains, Doubt shall be quelled and trouble chased away; With only such degree of sadness left As may support longings of pure desire; And strengthen love, rejoicing secretly In the sublime attractions of the Grave.>>
While, in this strain, the venerable Sage Poured forth his aspirations, and announced His judgments, near that lonely House we paced A plot of green-sward, seemingly preserved By Nature's care from wreck of scatter'd stones, And from encroachment of encircling heath: Small space! but, for reiterated steps, Smooth and commodious; as a stately deck Which to and fro the Mariner is used
To tread for pastime, talking with his Mates, Or haply thinking of far-distant Friends, While the Ship glides before a steady breeze. Stillness prevailed around us : and the Voice, That spake, was capable to lift the soul Tow'rd regions yet more tranquil. But, methought, That He, whose fixed despondency had given Impulse and motive to that strong discourse, Was less upraised in spirit than abashed; Shrinking from admonition, like a man Who feels, that to exhort, is to reproach, Yet not to be diverted from his aim, The Sage continued.—« For that other loss, The loss of confidence in social Man,
By the unexpected transports of our Age Carried so high, that every thought-which looked Beyond the temporal destiny of the Kind- To many seemed superfluous; as, no cause For such exalted confidence could e'er Exist; so, none is now for fixed despair; The two extremes are equally disowned By reason; if, with sharp recoil, from one You have been driven far as its opposite, Between them seek the point whereon to build Sound expectations. So doth he advise Who shared at first the illusion; but was soon Cast from the pedestal of pride by shocks Which Nature gently gave, in woods and fields; Nor unreproved by Providence, thus speaking To the inattentive Children of the World: 'Vain-glorious Generation! What new powers On you have been conferred? what gifts, withheld From your Progenitors, have Ye received, Fit recompense of new desert? what claim Are ye prepared to urge, that my decrees For you should undergo a sudden change; And the weak functions of one busy day, Reclaiming and extirpating, perform What all the slowly-moving years of Time, With their united force, have left undone? By Nature's gradual processes be taught; By story be confounded! Ye aspire Rashly, to fall once more; and that false fruit, Which, to your over-weening spirits, yields Hope of a flight celestial, will produce Misery and shame. But Wisdom of her sons Shall not the less, though late, be justified.' Such timely warning, said the Wanderer, gave That visionary Voice; and, at this day,
When a Tartarian darkness overspreads The groaning nations; when the Impious rule, By will or by established ordinance, Their own dire agents, and constrain the Good To acts which they abhor; though I bewail This triumph, yet the pity of my heart Prevents me not from owning, that the law, By which Mankind now suffers, is most just. For by superior energies; more strict Affiance in each other; faith more firm In their unhallowed principles; the Bad Have fairly earned a victory o'er the weak, The vacillating, inconsistent Good. Therefore, not unconsoled, I wait-in hope To see the moment, when the righteous Cause Shall gain Defenders zealous and devout
As They who have opposed her; in which Virtue Will, to her efforts, tolerate no bounds That are not lofty as her rights; aspiring By impulse of her own ethereal zeal. That Spirit only can redeem Mankind; And when that sacred Spirit shall appear, Then shall our triumph be complete as theirs. Yet, should this confidence prove vain, the Wise Have still the keeping of their proper peace; Are guardians of their own tranquillity. They act, or they recede, observe, and feel; 'Knowing the heart of Man is set to be The centre of this World, about the which Those revolutions of disturbances Still roll; where all the aspects of misery Predominate; whose strong effects are such As he must bear, being powerless to redress; And that unless above himself he can Erect himself, how poor a thing is Man!1
Happy is He who lives to understandNot human Nature only, but explores All Natures-to the end that he may find The law that governs each; and where begins The union, the partition where, that makes Kind and degree, among all visible Beings; The constitutions, powers, and faculties, Which they inherit,-cannot step beyond,— And cannot fall beneath; that do assign To every Class its station and its office, Through all the mighty Commonwealth of things; Up from the creeping plant to sovereign Man. Such Converse, if directed by a meek, Sincere, and humble Spirit, teaches love; For knowledge is delight; and such delight Breeds love; yet, suited as it rather is To thought and to the climbing intellect, It teaches less to love, than to adore; If that be not indeed the highest Love!»>
That he may call his own, and which depend, As individual objects of regard,
Upon his care,-from whom he also looks For signs and tokens of a mutual bond,— But others, far beyond this narrow sphere, Whom, for the very sake of love, he loves. Nor is it a mean praise of rural life And solitude, that they do favour most, Most frequently call forth, and best sustain These pure sensations; that can penetrate The obstreperous City; on the barren Seas Are not unfelt, and much might recommend, How much they might inspirit and endear, The loneliness of this sublime Retreat!»>
«Yes,» said the Sage, resuming the discourse Again directed to his downcast Friend, <«<lf, with the froward will and groveling soul Of Man offended, liberty is here,
And invitation every hour renewed,
To mark their placid state, who never heard Of a command which they have power to break, Or rule which they are tempted to transgress; These, with a soothed or elevated heart, May we behold; their knowledge register; Observe their ways; and, free from envy, find Complacence there-but wherefore this to You? I guess that, welcome to your lonely hearth, The Redbreast feeds in winter from your hand; A box, perchance, is from your casement hung For the small Wren to build in;—not in vain, The barriers disregarding that surround This deep Abiding-place, before your sight Mounts on the breeze the Butterfly-and soars, Small Creature as she is, from earth's bright flowers Into the dewy clouds. Ambition reigns In the waste wilderness: the Soul ascends Towards her native firmament of heaven, When the fresh Eagle, in the month of May, Upborne, at evening, on replenished wing, This shaded valley leaves,—and leaves the dark Empurpled hills,-conspicuously renewing A proud communication with the sun Low sunk beneath the horizon!--List!-I heard, From yon huge breast of rock, a solemu bleat; Sent forth as if it were the Mountain's voice, As if the visible Mountain made the cry. Again!»-The effect upon the soul was such As he expressed; from out the mountain's heart The solemn bleat appeared to issue, startling The blank air-for the region all around Stood silent, empty of all shape of life: -It was a Lamb-left somewhere to itself, The plaintive Spirit of the Solitude!— He paused, as if unwilling to proceed, Through consciousness that silence in such place Was best,-the most affecting eloquence. But soon his thoughts returned upon themselves, And, in soft tone of speech, he thus resumed.
<«< Ah! if the heart, too confidently raised, Perchance too lightly occupied, or lulled Too casily, despise or overlook The vassalage that binds her to the earth, Her sad dependence upon time, and all The trepidations of mortality,
What place so destitute and void-but there The little Flower her vanity shall check; The trailing Worm reprove her thoughtless pride?
«These craggy regions, these chaotic wilds Does that benignity pervade, that warms
The Mole contented with her darksome walk In the cold ground; and to the Emmet gives Her foresight, and intelligence that makes The tiny Creatures strong by social league; Supports the generations, multiplies
Their tribes, till we behold a spacious plain Or grassy bottom, all, with little hills- Their labour-cover'd, as a Lake with waves; Thousands of Cities, in the desert place Built up of life, and food, and means of life! Nor wanting here, to entertain the thought, Creatures, that in communities exist, Less, as might seem, for general guardianship Or through dependence upon mutual aid, Than by participation of delight And a strict love of fellowship, combined. What other spirit can it be, that prompts The gilded summer Flies to mix and weave Their sports together in the solar beam, Or in the gloom of twilight hum their joy? More obviously, the self-same influence rules The feathered kinds; the Fieldfare's pensive flock, The cawing Rooks, and Sea-mews from afar, Hovering above these inland Solitudes,
By the rough wind unscattered, at whose call Their voyage was begun: nor is its power Cafelt among the sedentary Fowl
That seek you Pool, and there prolong their stay In silent congress; or together roused
Take flight; while with their clang the air resounds. And, over all, in that ethereal arch,
Is the mute company of changeful clouds; -Bright apparition suddenly put forth The Rainbow, smiling on the faded storm; The mild assemblage of the starry heavens; And the great Sun, earth's universal Lord!
How bountiful is Nature! he shall find Who seeks not; and to him, who hath not asked, Large measure shall be dealt. Three sabbath-days Are scarcely told, since, on a service bent Of mere humanity, You clomb those Heights; And what a marvellous and heavenly Show Was to your sight revealed! the Swains moved on, And heeded not; you lingered, and perceived. There is a luxury in self-dispraise; And inward self-disparagement affords To meditative Spleen a grateful feast. Trust me, pronouncing on your own desert, You judge unthankfully: distempered nerves Infect the thoughts: the languor of the Frame Depresses the Soul's vigour. Quit your Couch- Cleave not so foudly to your moody Cell;
Nor let the hallowed Powers, that shed from heaven Sullness and rest, with disapproving eye Look down upon your taper, through a watch Of midnight hours, unseasonably twinkling In this deep Hollow; like a sullen star Dimly reflected in a louely pool.
Take courage, and withdraw yourself from ways
That run not parallel to Nature's course. Rise with the Lark! your Matins shall obtain Grace, be their composition what it may,
If but with hers performed; climb once again, Climb every day, those ramparts; meet the breeze Upon their tops,-adventurous as a Bee That from your garden thither soars, to feed On new-blown heath; let yon commanding rock Be your frequented Watch-tower; roll the stone In thunder down the mountains: with all your might Chase the wild Goat; and, if the bold red Deer Fly to these harbours, driven by hound and horn Loud echoing, add your speed to the pursuit: So, wearied to your Hut shall you return, And sink at evening into sound repose.»>
The Solitary lifted tow'rd the hills
A kindling eye;-poetic feelings rushed Into my bosom, whence these words broke forth: «Oh! what a joy it were, in vigorous health,
To have a Body (this our vital frame With shrinking sensibility endued,
And all the nice regards of flesh and blood) And to the elements surrender it As if it were a Spirit!-How divine, The liberty, for frail, for mortal man To roam at large among unpeopled glens And mountainous retirements, only trod By devious footsteps: regions consecrate To oldest time! and, reckless of the storm That keeps the raven quiet in her nest, Be as a Presence or a motion-one
Among the many there; and, while the Mists Flying, and rainy Vapours, call out Shapes And Phantoms from the crags and solid earth, As fast as a Musician scatters sounds
Out of an instrument; and, while the Streams- (As at a first creation and in haste To exercise their untried faculties) Descending from the region of the Clouds, And starting from the hollows of the earth, More multitudinous every moment, rend Their way before them-what a joy to roam An equal among mightiest Energies; And haply sometimes with articulate voice, Amid the deafening tumult, scarcely heard By him that utters it, exclaim aloud,
<< Be this continued so from day to day, Nor let the fierce commotion have an end, Ruinous though it be, from month to month!'»>
«Yes,» said the Wanderer, taking from my lips The strain of transport, « whosoe er in youth Has, through ambition of his soul, given way To such desires, and grasped at such delight, Shall feel congenial stirrings late and long; In spite of all the weakness that life brings, Its cares and sorrows, he, though taught to own The tranquillizing power of time, shall wake, Wake sometimes to a noble restlessness- Loving the sports which once he gloried in.
Compatriot, Friend, remote are Garry's Hills, The Streams far distant of your native Glen; Yet is their form and Image here expressed With brotherly resemblance. Turn your steps
Wherever fancy leads, by day, by night, Are various engines working, not the same
As those by which your soul in youth was moved, But by the great Artificer endued
With no inferior power. You dwell alone; You walk, you live, you speculate alone;
Yet doth Remembrance, like a sovereign Prince, For you a stately gallery maintain
Of gay or tragic pictures. You have seen, Have acted, suffered, travelled far, observed With no incurious eye; and books are yours, Within whose silent chambers treasure lies Preserved from age to age; more precious far Than that accumulated store of gold
And orient gems, which, for a day of need, The Sultan hides within ancestral tombs. These hoards of truth you can unlock at will: And music waits upon your skilful touch,- Sounds which the wandering Shepherd from these Heights
Hears, and forgets his purpose ;-furnished thus How can you droop, if willing to be raised?
« A piteous lot it were to flee from Man- Yet not rejoice in Nature. He-whose hours Are by Domestic Pleasures uncaressed And unenlivened; who exists whole years Apart from benefits received or done
'Mid the transactions of the bustling crowd; Who neither hears, nor feels a wish to hear, Of the world's interests-such a One hath need Of a quick fancy, and an active heart,
That, for the day's consumption, books may yield A not unwholesome food, and earth and air Supply his morbid humour with delight. -Truth has her pleasure-grounds, her haunts of ease And easy contemplation,-gay parterres, And labyrinthine walks, her sunny glades And shady groves for recreation framed : These may he range, if willing to partake Their soft indulgences, and in due time May issue thence, recruited for the tasks And course of service Truth requires from those Who tend her Altars, wait upon her Throne, And guard her fortresses. Who thinks, and feels, And recognizes ever and anon
The breeze of Nature stirring in his soul, Why need such man go desperately astray, And nurse the dreadful appetite of death?' If tired with Systems-each in its degree Substantial-and all crumbling in their turn, Let him build Systems of his own, and smile At the fond work-demolished with a touch: If unreligious, let him be at once, Among ten thousand Innocents, enrolled A Pupil in the many-chambered school, Where Superstition weaves her airy dreams.
<< Life's Autumn past, I stand on Winter's verge, And daily lose what I desire to keep: Yet rather would I instantly decline To the traditionary sympathies Of a most rustic ignorance, and take A fearful apprehension from the owl Or death-watch,-and as readily rejoice, If two auspicious magpies crossed my way;
To this would rather bend than see and hear The repetitions wearisome of sense, Where soul is dead, and feeling hath no place; Where knowledge, ill begun in cold remark On outward things, with formal inference ends: Or, if the Mind turn inward, 't is perplexed, Lost in a gloom of uninspired research; Meanwhile, the Heart within the Heart, the seat Where Peace and happy Consciousness should dwell; On its own axis restlessly revolves,
Yet nowhere finds the cheering light of truth.
Upon the breast of new-created Earth
Man walked; and when and wheresoe'er he moved, Alone or mated, Solitude was not.
He heard, upon the wind, the articulate Voice Of God; and Angels to his sight appeared, Crowning the glorious hills of Paradise ;
Or through the groves gliding like morning mist Enkindled by the sun. He sate-and talked With winged Messengers; who daily brought To his small Island in the ethereal deep Tidings of joy and love. From these pure Heights (Whether of actual vision, sensible
To sight and feeling, or that in this sort Have condescendingly been shadowed forth Communications spiritually maintained, And Intuitions moral and divine)
Fell Human-kind-to banishment condemned That flowing years repealed not: and distress And grief spread wide; but Man escaped the doom Of destitution;-Solitude was not. -Jehovah-shapeless Power above all Powers, Single and one, the omnipresent God, By vocal utterance, or blaze of light,
Or cloud of darkness, localized in heaven; On earth, enshrined within the wandering ark; Or, out of Sion, thundering from his throne Between the Cherubim-on the chosen Race Showered miracles, and ceased not to dispense Judgments, that filled the Land from age to age With hope, and love, and gratitude, and fear; And with amazement smote;-thereby to assert His scorned, or unacknowledged Sovereignty. And when the One, ineffable of name, Of nature indivisible, withdrew From mortal adoration or regard, Not then was Deity engulfed, nor Man,
The rational Creature, left, to feel the weight Of his own reason, without sense or thought Of higher reason and a purer will,
To benefit and bless, through mightier power: -Whether the Persian-zealous to reject Altar and Image, and the inclusive walls And roofs of Temples built by human hands- To loftiest heights ascending, from their tops, With myrtle-wreathed Tiara on his brow, Presented sacrifice to Moon and Stars, And to the winds and Mother Elements, And the whole Circle of the Heavens, for him A sensitive Existence, and a God,
With lifted hands invoked, and songs of praise: Or, less reluctantly to bonds of Sense Yielding his Soul, the Babylonian framed For influence undefined a personal Shape; And, from the Plain, with toil immense, upreared
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