The sun in heaven !-but now, to form a shade
For thee, green alders have together wound
Their foliage; ashes flung their arms
around;
And birch-trees risen in silver colonnade.
And thou hast also tempted here to rise,
'Mid sheltering pines, this cottage rude and
grey:
Whose ruddy children, by the mother's eyes
Carelessly watched, sport through the sum-
mer day,
[May
Thy pleased associates-light as endless
On infant bosoms lonely nature lies.
ERE yet our course was graced with social [bowers, It lacked not old remains of hawthorn Where small birds warbled to their paramours: And, earlier still, was heard the hum of [bees; I saw them ply their harmless robberies, And caught the fragrance which the sundry flowers, Fed by the stream with soft perpetual [showers, Plenteously yielded to the vagrant breeze. There bloomed the strawberry of the wilderness; The trembling eyebright showed her [sapphire blue, (1) The thyme her purple, like the blush of
And, if the breath of some to no caress
Invited, forth they peeped so fair to view,
All kinds alike seemed favourites of Heaven.
First of his tribe, to this dark dell-who
In this pellucid current slaked his thirst?
What hopes came with him? what designs
Along his path? His unprotected bed
What dreams encompassed? Was the
intruder nursed
In hideous usages, and rites accursed.
That thinned the living and disturbed the
[mute:
No voice replies:-the earth, the air is
And thou, blue streamlet, murmuring
Than a soft record that whatever fruit
Of ignorance thou mightst witness here
Chosen for ornament: stone matched with
In studied symmetry, with interspace
For the clear waters to pursue their race
Without restraint.-How swiftly have they
Succeeding - still succeeding! Here the
flown,
[child
Puts, when the high-swoln flood runs fierce
and wild,
[here
His budding courage to the proof;-and
Declining manhood learns to note the sly
And sure encroachments of infirmity,
Thinking how fast time runs, life's end how
near !
NOT so that pair whose youthful spirits
A sweet confusion checks the shepherd-lass;
With prompt emotion, urging them to pass;
Blushing she eyes the dizzy flood askance,―
To stop ashamed-too timid to advance;
His outstretched hand he tauntingly with
She ventures once again-another pause
!
draws-
She sues for help with piteous utterance!
ON, loitering muse-the swift stream chides us-on !
Albeit his deep-worn channel doth immure
Objects immense portrayed in miniature,
Wild shapes for many a strange comparison!
Niagaras, Alpine passes, and anon
Abodes of Naiads, calm abysses pure,
Bright liquid mansions, fashioned to endure
When the broad oak drops, a leafless
skeleton
And the solidities of mortal pride,
Palace and tower, are crumbled into dust!
The bard who walks with Duddon for his
guide,
Shall find such toys of fancy thickly set ;-
Turn from the sight, enamoured muse-we
And, if thou canst, leave them without regret !
Dread arbitress of mutable respect.
New rites ordaining, when the old are
wrecked,
Or cease to please the fickle worshipper;
If one strong wish may be embosomed here,
Mother of love! for this deep vale, protect
Truth's holy lamp, pure source of bright
effect,
Gifted to purge the vapoury atmosphere
That seeks to stifle it ;-as in those days
When this low pile a gospel teacher knew,
Whose good works formed an endless
retinue t
Such priest as Chaucer sang in fervent lays; Such as the Heaven-taught skill of Herbert drew; [less praise!
And tender Goldsmith crowned with death
TRIBUTARY STREAM.
My frame hath often trembled with delight
When hope presented some far-distant
good,
[the flood
That seemed from Heaven descending, like
Of yon pure waters, from their aery height
Hurrying with lordly Duddon to unite;
Who, mid a world of images imprest
On the calm depth of his transparent breast,
Appears to cherish most that torrent white,
The fairest, softest, liveliest of them all!
And seldom hath ear listened to a tune
More lulling than the busy hum of noon,
Swoln by that voice-whose murmur
Announces to the thirsty fields a boon Dewy and fresh, till showers again shall fall.
THE PLAIN OF DONNERDALE.
THE old inventive poets, had they seen,
Or rather felt, the entrancement that detains
Thy waters, Duddon! 'mid these flowery
plains,
The still repose, the liquid lapse serene,
Transferred to bowers imperishably green,
Had beautified Elysium! But these chains
† See Note to Sonnet xvii.
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