BUT liberty, and triumphs on the Main,
And laurelled armies, not to be withstood
What serve they? if, on transitory good
Intent, and sedulous of abject gain,
The State (ah, surely not preserved in
vain!)

Forbear to shape due channels which the
Flood

Of sacred truth may enter till it brood O'er the wide realm, as o'er the Egyptian plain

The all-sustaining Nile. No more - the time

Is conscious of her want; through England's bounds,

In rival haste, the wished-for Temples rise! I hear their sabbath bells' harmonious chime

Float on the breeze the heavenliest of all

sounds

-

That vale or hill prolongs or multiplies!

Of white robed Scholars only - this im

mense

And glorious Work of fine intelligence! Give all thou canst; high Heaven rejects the lore

Of nicely-calculated less or more;

So deemed the man who fashioned for the

sense

These lofty pillars, spread that branching roof

Self-poised, and scooped into ten thousand cells,

Where light and shade repose, where music dwells

Lingering and wandering on as loth to die;

Like thoughts whose very sweetness yieldeth proof

That they were born for immortality.

XLIV

THE SAME

1821. 1822

WHAT awful perspective! while from our sight

With gradual stealth the lateral windows hide

Their Portraitures, their stone-work glimmers, dyed

In the soft chequerings of a sleepy light.
Martyr, or King, or sainted Eremite,
Whoe'er ye be, that thus, yourselves unseen,
Imbue your prison-bars with solemn sheen,
Shine on, until ye fade with coming Night!-
But, from the arms of silence-list! O list!
The music bursteth into second life;
The notes luxuriate, every stone is kissed
By sound, or ghost of sound, in mazy strife;
Heart-thrilling strains, that cast, before the

TO THE LADY FLEMING

ON SEEING THE FOUNDATION PREPARING FOR THE ERECTION OF RYDAL CHAPEL, WESTMORELAND

1823. 1827

After thanking Lady Fleming in prose for the service she had done to her neighbourhood by erecting this Chapel, I have nothing to say beyond the expression of regret that the architect did not furnish an elevation better suited to the site in a narrow mountain-pass, and, what is of more consequence, better constructed in the interior for the purposes of worship. It has no chancel; the altar is unbecomingly confined; the pews are so narrow as to preclude the possibility of kneeling with comfort; there is no vestry; and what ought to have been first mentioned, the font, instead of standing at its proper place at the entrance, is thrust into the farther end of a pew. When these defects shall be pointed out to the munificent Patroness, they will, it is hoped, be corrected.

Nor deem the Poet's hope misplaced,
His fancy cheated that can see
A shade upon the future cast,
Of time's pathetic sanctity;
Can hear the monitory clock
Sound o'er the lake with gentle shock
At evening, when the ground beneath
Is ruffled o'er with cells of death;
Where happy generations lie,
Here tutored for eternity.

30

40

50

60

70

ON THE SAME OCCASION
1823. 1827

Oh! gather whencesoe'er ye safely may The help which slackening Piety requires; Nor deem that he perforce must go astray Who treads upon the footmarks of his sires. Our churches, invariably perhaps, stand east and west, but why is by few persons exactly known; nor, that the degree of deviation from due east often noticeable in the ancient ones was determined, in each particular case, by the point in the horizon, at which the sun rose upon the day of the saint to whom the church was dedicated. These observances of our ancestors, and the causes of them, are the subject of the following stanzas.

WHEN in the antique age of bow and spear And feudal rapine clothed with iron mail,

Came ministers of peace, intent to rear The Mother Church in yon sequestered vale;

Then, to her Patron Saint a previous rite Resounded with deep swell and solemn close, Through unremitting vigils of the night, Till from his couch the wished-for Sun up

rose.

He rose, and straight—as by divine command,

They, who had waited for that sign to trace Their work's foundation, gave with careful hand

To the high altar its determined place;

Mindful of Him who in the Orient born There lived, and on the cross his life resigned,

And who, from out the regions of the morn,

Issuing in pomp, shall come to judge mankind.

So taught their creed; ;-nor failed the east

ern sky,

'Mid these more awful feelings, to infuse The sweet and natural hopes that shall not die,

Long as the sun his gladsome course renews.

For us hath such prelusive vigil ceased; Yet still we plant, like men of elder days, Our christian altar faithful to the east, Whence the tall window drinks the morn

ing rays;

That obvious emblem giving to the eye
Of meek devotion, which erewhile it gave,
That symbol of the dayspring from on high,
Triumphant o'er the darkness of the grave.

"A VOLANT TRIBE OF BARDS ON EARTH ARE FOUND" 1823. 1827

A VOLANT Tribe of Bards on earth are found,

Who, while the flattering Zephyrs round them play,

On "coignes of vantage" hang their nests of clay;

How quickly from that aëry hold unbound, Dust for oblivion! To the solid ground