Flew open, and a pair of lusty Boys Appeared, confusion checking their delight. Not brothers they in feature or attire, But fond companions, so I guessed, in field, And by the river's margin-whence they come, Keen anglers with unusual spoil elated. One bears a willow-pannier on his back, The boy of plainer garb, whose blush survives More deeply tinged. Twin might the other be To that fair girl who from the garden-mount Bounded: triumphant entry this for him! Between his hands he holds a smooth blue stone, On whose capacious surface see outspread Large store of gleaming crimson-spotted trouts ; Ranged side by side, and lessening by degrees Up to the dwarf that tops the pinnacle. Upon the board he lays the sky-blue stone
With its rich freight; their number he proclaims; Tells from what pool the noblest had been dragged ; And where the very monarch of the brook,
After long struggle, had escaped at last— Stealing alternately at them and us
(As doth his comrade too) a look of pride; And, verily, the silent creatures made A splendid sight, together thus exposed; Dead-but not sullied or deformed by death, That seemed to pity what he could not spare.
But O, the animation in the mien Of those two boys! yea in the very words With which the young narrator was inspired, When, as our questions led, he told at large Of that day's prowess! Him might I compare, His looks, tones, gestures, eager eloquence, To a bold brook that splits for better speed, And at the self-same moment, works its way Through many channels, ever and anon Parted and re-united: his compeer To the still lake, whose stillness is to sight As beautiful--as grateful to the mind. -But to what object shall the lovely Girl Be likened? She whose countenance and air Unite the graceful qualities of both,
Even as she shares the pride and joy of both.
My grey-haired Friend was moved; his vivid eye Glistened with tenderness; his mind, I knew,
Was full; and had, I doubted not, returned, Upon this impulse, to the theme-erewhile Abruptly broken off. The ruddy boys
Withdrew, on summons to their well-earned meal; And He to whom all tongues resigned their rights With willingness, to whom the general ear Listened with readier patience than to strain
Of music, lute or harp, a long delight
That ceased not when his voice had ceased-as One
Who from truth's central point serenely views
The compass of his argument-began
Mildly, and with a clear and steady tone.
DISCOURSE OF THE WANDERER, AND AN EVENING VISIT TO THE LAKE
WANDERER asserts that an active principle pervades the Universe, its noblest seat the human soul.-How lively this principle is in Childhood.Hence the delight in old Age of looking back upon Childhood.-The dignity, powers, and privileges of Age asserted.-These not to be looked for generally but under a just government.-Right of a human Creature to be exempt from being considered as a mere Instrument.-The condition of multitudes deplored.-Former conversation recurred to, and the Wanderer's opinions set in a clearer light.-Truth placed within reach of the humblest.-Equality. -Happy state of the two Boys again adverted to.-Earnest wish expressed for a System of National Education established universally by Government.Glorious effects of this foretold.-Walk to the Lake.-Grand spectacle from the side of a hill.-Address of Priest to the Supreme Being-in the course of which he contrasts with ancient Barbarism the present appearance of the scene before him.-The change ascribed to Christianity.-Apostrophe to his flock, living and dead.-Gratitude to the Almighty.-Return over the Lake. -Parting with the Solitary.-Under what circumstances.
O every Form of being is assigned,'
Thus calmly spake the venerable Sage, 'An active Principle: howe'er removed From sense and observation, it subsists In all things, in all natures; in the stars Of azure heaven, the unenduring clouds, In flower and tree, in every pebbly stone That paves the brooks, the stationary rocks, The moving waters, and the invisible air. Whate'er exists hath properties that spread Beyond itself, communicating good, A simple blessing, or with evil mixed;
Spirit that knows no insulated spot,
No chasm, no solitude; from link to link It circulates, the Soul of all the worlds. This is the freedom of the universe; Unfolded still the more, more visible,
The more we know; and yet is reverenced least,// And least respected in the human Mind,
Its most apparent home. The food of hope Is meditated action; robbed of this
Her sole support, she languishes and dies. We perish also; for we live by hope And by desire; we see by the glad light And breathe the sweet air of futurity; And so we live, or else we have no life. To-morrow-nay perchance this very hour. (For every moment hath its own to-morrow!) Those blooming Boys, whose hearts are almost sick With present triumph, will be sure to find A field before them freshened with the dew Of other expectations;-in which course Their happy year spins round. The youth obeys A like glad impulse; and so moves the man 'Mid all his apprehensions, cares, and fears,- Or so he ought to move. Ah! why in age Do we revert so fondly to the walks
Of childhood—but that there the Soul discerns The dear memorial footsteps unimpaired
Of her own native vigour; thence can hear Reverberations; and a choral song,
Commingling with the incense that ascends, Undaunted, toward the imperishable heavens, From her own lonely altar?
That good and wise ever will be allowed, Though strength decay, to breathe in such estate As shall divide them wholly from the stir Of hopeful nature. Rightly it is said That Man descends into the VALE of years; Yet have I thought that we might also speak, And not presumptuously, I trust, of Age, As of a final EMINENCE though bare In aspect and forbidding, yet a point On which 'tis not impossible to sit In awful sovereignty; a place of power, A throne, that may be likened unto his, Who, in some placid day of summer, looks Down from a mountain-top,-say one of those
High peaks, that bound the vale where now we are. Faint, and diminished to the gazing eye, Forest and field, and hill and dale appear, With all the shapes over their surface spread: But, while the gross and visible frame of things Relinquishes its hold upon the sense,
Yea almost on the Mind herself, and seems All unsubstantialized, how loud the voice Of waters, with invigorated peal From the full river in the vale below, Ascending! For on that superior height Who sits, is disencumbered from the press Of near obstructions, and is privileged To breathe in solitude, above the host Of ever-humming insects, 'mid thin air
That suits not them. The murmur of the leaves Many and idle, visits not his ear:
This he is freed from, and from thousand notes (Not less unceasing, not less vain than these,) By which the finer passages of sense
Are occupied; and the Soul, that would incline To listen, is prevented or deterred.
And may it not be hoped, that, placed by age In like removal, tranquil though severe,
We are not so removed for utter loss;
But for some favour, suited to our need?
What more, than that the severing should confer Fresh power to commune with the invisible world, And hear the mighty stream of tendency Uttering, for elevation of our thought,
A clear sonorous voice, inaudible
To the vast multitude; whose doom it is To run the giddy round of vain delight, Or fret and labour on the Plain below.
'But, if to such sublime ascent the hopes Of Man may rise, as to a welcome close And termination of his mortal course; Them only can such hope inspire whose minds Have not been starved by absolute neglect; Nor bodies crushed by unremitting toil; To whom kind Nature, therefore, may afford Proof of the sacred love she bears for all; Whose birthright Reason, therefore, may ensure. For me, consulting what I feel within
In times when most existence with herself
Is satisfied, I cannot but believe,
That, far as kindly Nature hath free scope
And Reason's sway predominates; even so far, Country, society, and time itself,
That saps the individual's bodily frame, And lays the generations low in dust,
Do, by the almighty Ruler's grace, partake Of one maternal spirit, bringing forth And cherishing with ever-constant love, That tires not, nor betrays. Qur life is turned Out of her course, wherever man is made An offering, or a sacrifice, a tool
Or implement, a passive thing employed As a brute mean, without acknowledgment Of common right or interest in the end; Used or abused, as selfishness may prompt. Say, what can follow for a rational soul Perverted thus, but weakness in all good, And strength in evil? Hence an after-call For chastisement, and custody, and bonds, And oft-times Death, avenger of the past, And the sole guardian in whose hands we dare Entrust the future.-Not for these sad issues Was Man created; but to obey the law
Of life, and hope, and action. And 'tis known That when we stand upon our native soil, Unelbowed by such objects as oppress
Our active powers, those powers themselves become Strong to subvert our noxious qualities: They sweep distemper from the busy day,
And make the chalice of the big round year
Run o'er with gladness; whence the Being moves In beauty through the world; and all who see Bless him, rejoicing in his neighbourhood.'
'Then,' said the Solitary, 'by what force Of language shall a feeling heart express Her sorrow for that multitude in whom
We look for health from seeds that have been sown In sickness, and for increase in a power That works but by extinction? On themselves They cannot lean, nor turn to their own hearts To know what they must do; their wisdom is To look into the eyes of others, thence To be instructed what they must avoid : Or rather, let us say, how least observed, How with most quiet and most silent death,
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