Reprinted at the request of my Sister, in whose presence the lines were thrown off.

This Impromptu appeared, many years ago, among the Author's poems, from which, in subsequent editions, it was excluded.

THE sun has long been set,

The stars are out by twos and threes, The little birds are piping yet

Among the bushes and trees;
There's a cuckoo, and one or two thrushes,
And a far-off wind that rushes,
And a sound of water that gushes,
And the cuckoo's sovereign cry
Fills all the hollow of the sky.
Who would "go parading

In London," and masquerading,"
On such a night of June

With that beautiful soft half-moon,
And all these innocent blisses?

On such a night as this is!

COMPOSED UPON WESTMINSTER BRIDGE, SEPT. 3, 1802 1802. 1807

Written on the roof of a coach, on my way to France.

EARTH has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty:

On England's bosom; yet well pleased to rest,

Meanwhile, and be to her a glorious crest Conspicuous to the Nations. Thou, I think, Should'st be my Country's emblem; and should'st wink,

Bright Star! with laughter on her banners, drest

In thy fresh beauty. There! that dusky spot

Beneath thee, that is England; there she lies. Blessings be on you both! one hope, one lot, One life, one glory! - I, with many a fear For my dear Country, many heartfelt sighs, Among men who do not love her, linger here.

CALAIS, AUGUST 1802
1802. 1807

Is it a reed that 's shaken by the wind,
Or what is it that ye go forth to see?
Lords, lawyers, statesmen, squires of low
degree,

Men known, and men unknown, sick, lame, and blind,

Post forward all, like creatures of one kind, With first-fruit offerings crowd to bend the

knee

In France, before the new-born Majesty.

His business as he likes. Far other show My youth here witnessed, in a prouder time;

The senselessness of joy was then sublime ! Happy is he, who, caring not for Pope, Consul, or King, can sound himself to know The destiny of Man, and live in hope.

"IT IS A BEAUTEOUS EVENING, CALM AND FREE" 1802. 1807

This was composed on the beach near Calais, in the autumn of 1802.

It is a beauteous evening, calm and free,
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration; the broad sun
Is sinking down in its tranquillity;
The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the
Sea:

Listen! the mighty Being is awake,
And doth with his eternal motion make
A sound like thunder-everlastingly.
Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with
me here,

If thou appear untouched by solemn thought,

Thy nature is not therefore less divine: Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year; And worship'st at the Temple's inner shrine, God being with thee when we know it not.

Within thy hearing, or thy head be now Pillowed in some deep dungeon's earless den;

O miserable Chieftain! where and when Wilt thou find patience? Yet die not; do thou

Wear rather in thy bonds a cheerful brow: Though fallen thyself, never to rise again, Live, and take comfort. Thou hast left behind

Powers that will work for thee; air, earth, and skies;

There's not a breathing of the common wind

That will forget thee; thou hast great allies; Thy friends are exultations, agonies,

And love, and man's unconquerable mind.

SEPTEMBER 1, 1802
1802. 1807

Among the capricious acts of tyranny that disgraced those times, was the chasing of all Negroes from France by decree of the government: we had a Fellow-passenger who was one of the expelled.

WE had a female Passenger who came
From Calais with us, spotless in array,
A white-robed Negro, like a lady gay,
Yet downcast as a woman fearing blame;
Meek, destitute, as seemed, of hope or aim
She sate, from notice turning not away,
But on all proffered intercourse did lay
A weight of languid speech, or to the same
No sign of answer made by word or face:
Yet still her eyes retained their tropic fire,
That, burning independent of the mind,
Joined with the lustre of her rich attire
To mock the Outcast. O ye Heavens, be

kind!

And feel, thou Earth, for this afflicted Race!

This was written immediately after my return from France to London, when I could not but be struck, as here described, with the vanity and parade of our own country, especially in great towns and cities, as contrasted with the quiet, and I may say the desolation, that the revolution had produced in France. This must be borne in mind, or else the reader may think that in this and the succeeding Sonnets I have exaggerated the mischief engendered and fostered among us by undisturbed wealth. It would not be easy to conceive with what a depth of feeling I entered into the struggle carried on by the Spaniards for their deliverance from the usurped power of the French. Many times have I gone from Allan Bank in Grasmere vale, where we were then residing, to the top of the Raise-gap as it is called, so late as two o'clock in the morning, to meet the carrier bringing the newspaper from Keswick. Imperfect traces of the state of mind in which I then was may be found in my Tract on the Convention of Cintra, as well as in these Sonnets.

O FRIEND! I know not which way I must look

For comfort, being, as I am, opprest,
To think that now our life is only drest
For show; mean handy-work of craftsman,
cook,

Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart: Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea:

Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou travel on life's common way, In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart The lowliest duties on herself did lay.

"GREAT MEN HAVE BEEN AMONG US"

1802. 1807

GREAT men have been among us; hands that penned

And tongues that uttered wisdom - better

none:

The later Sidney, Marvel, Harrington, Young Vane, and others who called Milton friend.

These moralists could act and comprehend:
They knew how genuine glory was put on;
Taught us how rightfully a nation shone
In splendour: what strength was, that
would not bend

But in magnanimous meekness. France, 't is strange,