Adding immortal labours of his own— Whether he traced historic truth, with zeal For the State's guidance, or the Church's weal,

Or Fancy, disciplined by studious art, Informed his pen, or wisdom of the heart, Or judgments sanctioned in the Patriot's mind

By reverence for the rights of all mankind. Wide were his aims, yet in no human breast Could private feelings meet for holier rest. His joys, his griefs, have vanished like a cloud

From Skiddaw's top; but he to heaven was vowed

Through his industrious life, and Christian

faith

Calmed in his soul the fear of change and death.

ON THE PROJECTED KENDAL AND WINDERMERE RAILWAY 1844. 1845

Is then no nook of English ground secure From rash assault? Schemes of retirement sown

In youth, and 'mid the busy world kept pure

For MARY's humble, SARAH's silent claim, That their pure joy in nature may survive

From age to age in blended memory.

THE WESTMORELAND GIRL

TO MY GRANDCHILDREN
1845. 1845

PART I

SEEK who will delight in fable
I shall tell you truth. A Lamb
Leapt from this steep bank to follow
'Cross the brook its thoughtless dam.

Far and wide on hill and valley
Rain had fallen, unceasing rain,
And the bleating mother's Young-one
Struggled with the flood in vain:

But, as chanced, a Cottage-maiden
(Ten years scarcely had she told)
Seeing, plunged into the torrent,
Clasped the Lamb and kept her hold.

Whirled adown the rocky channel,
Sinking, rising, on they go,
Peace and rest, as seems, before them
Only in the lake below.

Oh! it was a frightful current
Whose fierce wrath the Girl had braved;
Clap your hands with joy my Hearers,
Shout in triumph, both are saved;

Saved by courage that with danger
Grew, by strength the gift of love,
And belike a guardian angel
Came with succour from above.

PART II

Now, to a maturer Audience, Let me speak of this brave Child Left among her native mountains With wild Nature to run wild.

So, unwatched by love maternal, Mother's care no more her guide, Fared this little bright-eyed Orphan Even while at her father's side.

Scarcely less than sacred passions,
Bred in house, in grove, and field,
Link her with the inferior creatures,
Urge her powers their rights to shield.

Anglers, bent on reckless pastime,
Learn how she can feel alike
Both for tiny harmless minnow
And the fierce and sharp-toothed pike.

Merciful protectress, kindling
Into anger or disdain;

Many a captive hath she rescued,
Others saved from lingering pain.

Listen yet awhile; with patience
Hear the homely truths I tell,
She in Grasmere's old church-steeple
Tolled this day the passing-bell.

Yes, the wild Girl of the mountains
To their echoes gave the sound,
Notice punctual as the minute,
Warning solemn and profound.

She, fulfilling her sire's office,
Rang alone the far-heard knell,
Tribute, by her hand, in sorrow,
Paid to One who loved her well.

When his spirit was departed On that service she went forth; Nor will fail the like to render When his corse is laid in earth.

What then wants the Child to temper,
In her breast, unruly fire,

To control the froward impulse
And restrain the vague desire ?

10

20

30

50

AT FURNESS ABBEY
1845. 1845

WELL have yon Railway Labourers to THIS ground

Withdrawn for noontide rest. They sit, they walk

Among the Ruins, but no idle talk

Is heard; to grave demeanour all are bound; And from one voice a Hymn with tuneful sound

Hallows once more the long-deserted Quire And thrills the old sepulchral earth, around. Others look up, and with fixed eyes admire

That wide-spanned arch, wondering how it was raised,

To keep, so high in air, its strength and grace:

All seem to feel the spirit of the place, And by the general reverence God is praised: Profane Despoilers, stand ye not reproved, While thus these simple-hearted men are

moved?

"YES! THOU ART FAIR, YET
BE NOT MOVED"
1845. 1845

YES! thou art fair, yet be not moved
To scorn the declaration,
That sometimes I in thee have loved
My fancy's own creation.

"WHAT HEAVENLY SMILES! O LADY MINE"

1845. 1845

WHAT heavenly smiles! O Lady mine
Through my very heart they shine;
And, if my brow gives back their light,
Do thou look gladly on the sight;
As the clear Moon with modest pride
Beholds her own bright beams
Reflected from the mountain's side
And from the headlong streams.

forefathers in their simple state of society. How touching and beautiful were, in most instances, the names they gave to our indigenous flowers, or any other they were familiarly acquainted with! - Every month for many years have we been importing plants and flowers from all quarters of the globe, many of which are spread through our gardens, and some perhaps likely to be met with on the few Commons which we have left. Will their botanical names ever be displaced by plain English appellations, which will bring them home to our hearts by connection with our joys and sorrows? It can never be, unless society treads back her steps towards those simplicities which have been banished by the undue influence of towns spreading and spreading in every direction, so that city-life with every generation takes more and more the lead of rural. Among the ancients, villages were reckoned the seats of barbarism. Refinement, for the most part false, increases the desire to accumulate wealth; and while theories of political economy are boastfully pleading for the practice, inhumanity pervades all our dealings in buying and selling This selfishness wars against disinterested imagination in all directions, and, evils coming round in a circle, barbarism spreads in every quarter of our island. Oh for the reign of justice, and then the humblest man among us would have more power and dignity in and about him than the highest have now!