of Hacket was often visited by us, and at the time when this Sonnet was written, and long after, was occupied by the husband and wife described in the " Excursion," where it is mentioned that she was in the habit of walking in the front of the dwelling with a light to guide her husband home at night. The same cottage is alluded to in the " Epistle to Sir George Beaumont" as that from which the female peasant hailed us on our morning journey. The musician mentioned in the Sonnet was the Rev. Samuel Tillbrook of Peter-house, Cambridge, who remodelled the Ivy Cottage at Rydal after he had purchased it.

THE fairest, brightest, hues of ether fade; The sweetest notes must terminate and die; O Friend! thy flute has breathed a harmony

Softly resounded through this rocky glade; Such strains of rapture as the Genius played

In his still haunt on Bagdad's summit high;

He who stood visible to Mirza's eye,
Never before to human sight betrayed.
Lo, in the vale, the mists of evening
spread!

The visionary Arches are not there,
Nor the green Islands, nor the shining
Seas:

Yet sacred is to me this Mountain's head, Whence I have risen, uplifted, on the breeze

Of harmony, above all earthly care.

Of a bedimming sleep, or as a lamp
Suddenly glaring through sepulchral damp,
So burns yon Taper 'mid a black recess
Of mountains, silent, dreary, motionless:
The lake below reflects it not; the sky,
Muffled in clouds, affords no company
To mitigate and cheer its loneliness.
Yet, round the body of that joyless Thing
Which sends so far its melancholy light,
Perhaps are seated in domestic ring
A gay society with faces bright,
Conversing, reading, laughing;- or they
sing,

While hearts and voices in the song unite.

Suggested in the wild hazel wood at the foot of Helm-crag, where the stone still lies, with others of like form and character, though much of the wood that veiled it from the glare of day has been felled. This beautiful ground was lately purchased by our friend Mrs. Fletcher, the ancient owners, most respected persons, being obliged to part with it in consequence of the imprudence of a son. It is gratifying to mention that, instead of murmuring and repining at this change of fortune, they offered their services to Mrs. Fletcher, the husband as an outdoor labourer, and the wife as a domestic servant. I have witnessed the pride and pleasure with which the man worked at improvements of the ground round the house. Indeed he expressed those feelings to me himself, and the countenance and manner of his wife always denoted feelings of the same character. I believe a similar disposition to contentment under change of fortune is common among the class to which these good people belong. Yet, in proof that to part with their patrimony is most

“BROOK! WHOSE SOCIETY THE POET SEEKS"

1810-15. 1815

BROOK! whose society the Poet seeks,
Intent his wasted spirits to renew;
And whom the curious Painter doth pursue
Through rocky passes, among flowery
creeks,

And tracks thee dancing down thy waterbreaks;

If wish were mine some type of thee to view,

Thee, and not thee thyself, I would not do Like Grecian Artists, give thee human cheeks,

Channels for tears; no Naiad should'st thou be,

Have neither limbs, feet, feathers, joints nor hairs:

It seems the Eternal Soul is clothed in thee

With purer robes than those of flesh and

blood,

ODE

THE MORNING OF THE DAY APPOINTED THANKSGIVING.

FOR A GENERAL . JANUARY 18, 1816

1816. 1816

The first stanza of this Ode was composed almost extempore, in front of Rydal Mount, before church-time, and on such a morning and precisely with such objects before my eyes as are here described. The view taken of Napoleon's character and proceedings is little in accordance with that taken by some historians and critical philosophers. I am glad and proud of the difference, and trust that this series of poems, infinitely below the subject as they are, will survive to counteract, in unsophisticated minds, the pernicious and degrading tendency of those views and doctrines that lead to the idolatry of power, as power, and, in that false splendour to lose sight of its real nature and constitution as it often acts for the gratification of its possessor without reference to a beneficial end -an infirmity that has characterised men of all ages, classes, and employments, since Nimrod became a mighty hunter before the Lord.

I

HAIL, orient Conqueror of gloomy Night!
Thou that canst shed the bliss of gratitude
On hearts howe'er insensible or rude;
Whether thy punctual visitations smite
The haughty towers where monarchs dwell;
Or thou, impartial Sun, with presence bright
Cheer'st the low threshold of the peasant's

cell!

Not unrejoiced I see thee climb the sky In naked splendour, clear from mist or haze,

Or cloud approaching to divert the rays, 10 Which even in deepest winter testify

Thy power and majesty,

Dazzling the vision that presumes to gaze. Well does thine aspect usher in this Day; As aptly suits therewith that modest pace Submitted to the chains

That bind thee to the path which God ordains

That thou shalt trace,

Till, with the heavens and earth, thou pass away!

Nor less, the stillness of these frosty plains, Their utter stillness, and the silent grace 21 Of yon ethereal summits white with snow, (Whose tranquil pomp and spotless purity