LINES

WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM OF THE COUNTESS OF -.

Nov. 5, 1834

LADY! a Pen, perhaps, with thy regard, Among the Favoured, favoured not the least,

Left, 'mid the Records of this Book inscribed,

Deliberate traces, registers of thought And feeling, suited to the place and time That gave them birth :-months passed, and still this hand,

That had not been too timid to imprint Words which the virtues or thy Lord inspired,

Was yet not bold enough to write of Thee. And why that scrupulous reserve? In sooth The blameless cause lay in the Theme itself. Flowers are there many that delight to

Checked, in the moment of its issue checked;

And reprehended by a fancied blush
From the pure qualities that called it forth.

Thus Virtue lives debarred from Virtue's meed;

Thus, Lady, is retiredness a veil

That, while it only spreads a softening charm

O'er features looked at by discerning eyes, Hides half their beauty from the common gaze;

And thus, even on the exposed and breezy bill

Of lofty station, female goodness walks,
When side by side with lunar gentleness
As in a cloister. Yet the grateful Poor
(Such the immunities of low estate,
Plain Nature's enviable privilege,
Her sacred recompence for many wants)
Open their hearts before Thee, pouring out
All that they think and feel, with tears of
joy;

And benedictions not unheard in Heaven: And friend in the ear of friend, where speech is free

To follow truth, is eloquent as they.

Then let the Book receive in these prompt lines

A just memorial; and thine eyes consent To read that they, who mark thy course, behold

A life declining with the golden light
Of summer, in the season of sere leaves;
See cheerfulness undamped by stealing
Time;

See studied kindness flow with easy stream,
Illustrated with inborn courtesy;
And an habitual disregard of self
Balanced by vigilance for others' weal.

And shall the verse not tell of lighter gifts
With these ennobling attributes conjoined
And blended, in peculiar harmony,
By Youth's surviving spirit? What agile
grace!

A nymph-like liberty, in nymph-like form, Beheld with wonder; whether floor or path Thou tread, or on the managed steed art borne,

Fleet as the shadows, over down or field, Driven by strong winds at play among the clouds.

Yet one word more-one farewell worda wish

That, as thy sun in brightness is declining, So, at an hour yet distant for their sakes Whose tender love, here faltering on the

way

Of a diviner love, will be forgiven,— So may it set in peace, to rise again For everlasting glory won by faith.

THE SOMNAMBULIST.

1.

LIST, ye who pass by Lyulph's Tower*
At eve; how softly then
Doth Aira-force, that torrent hoarse,
Speak from the woody glen!
Fit music for a solemn vale!

And holier seems the ground
To him who catches on the gale
The spirit of a mournful tale,
Embodied in the sound.

2.

Not far from that fair site whereon
The Pleasure-house is reared,
As Story says, in antique days,
A stern-brow'd house appeared;
Foil to a jewel rich in light

There set, and guarded well;
Cage for a bird of plumage bright,
Sweet-voiced, nor wishing for a flight
Beyond her native dell.

3.

To win this bright bird from her cage,
To make this gem their own,
Came Barons bold, with store of gold,
And Knights of high renown;
But one she prized, and only One;
Sir Eglamore was he;

Full happy season, when was known,
Ye Dales and Hills! to you alone
Their mutual loyalty-

Known chiefly, Aira! to thy glen,

Thy brook, and bowers of holly; Where Passion caught what Nature taught, That all but love is folly ;

A pleasure-house built by the late Duke of Norfolk upon the banks of Ullswater. FoxCE is the word used in the Lake District for Water

And whispers caught, and speeches small,
Some to the green-leaved tree,
Some muttered to the torrent-fall,-

Roar on, and bring him with thy call;
I heard, and so may he !"

15.

Soul-shattered was the Knight, nor knew
If Emma's Ghost it were,
Or boding Shade, or if the Maid

Her very self stood there.

He touched, what followed who shall tell?
The soft touch snapped the thread
Of slumber-shrieking back she fell,
And the Stream whirled her down the dell
Along its foaming bed.

16.

ΤΟ

UPON THE BIRTH OF HER FIRST-BORN
CHILD, MARCH, 1833.

"Tum porro puer, ut sævis projectus ab undis
Navita; nudus humi jacet," &c.-LUCRETIUS.
LIKE a shipwreck'd Sailor tost
By rough waves on a perilous coast,
Lies the Babe, in helplessness
And in tenderest nakedness,
Flung by labouring nature forth
Can its eyes beseech? no more
Upon the mercies of the earth.
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

The rescued Maiden lay,

Her eyes grew bright with blissful light,
Confusion passed away;

She heard, ere to the throne of grace
Her faithful Spirit flew,

His voice; beheld his speaking face,
And, dying, from his own embrace.
She felt that he was true

17.

So was he reconciled to life:
Brief words may speak the rest;
Within the dell he built a cell,

And there was Sorrow's guest;
In hermits' weeds repose he found,
From vain temptations free;
Beside the torrent dwelling-bound
By one deep heart-controlling sound,
And awed to piety.

18.

Wild stream of Aira, hold thy course,
Nor fear memorial lays,

Where clouds that spread in solemn shade,
Are edged with golden rays!
Dear art thou to the light of Heaven,

Though minister of sorrow;
Sweet is thy voice at pensive Even ;
And thou, in Lovers' hearts forgiven,
Shall take thy place with Yarrow !

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 from 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,
Ofttimes 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 warrat 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!

Hopes that within the Father's heart prevail,

Are in the experienced Grandsire's slow to fail;

And if the Harp pleased his gay youth, it rings

To his grave touch with no unready strings, While thoughts press on, and feelings overflow,

And quick words round him fall like flakes of snow.

Thanks to the Powers that yet maintain their sway,

And have renewed the tributary Lay. Truths of the heart flock in with eager pace, And FANCY greets them with a fond em. brace;

Swift as the rising sun his beam extends She shoots the tidings forth to distant friends;

Their gifts she hails (deemed precious as they prove

For the unconscious Babe an unbelated love!)

But from this peaceful centre of delight Vague sympathies have urged her to take flight.

She rivals the fleet Swallow, making rings In the smooth lake where'er he dips his