A humbler destiny have we rétraced, ways: Yet-compassed round by mountain soli tudes, Within whose solemn temple I received range, A meditative, oft a suffering man- For that which moves with light and life in formed, Actual, divine, and true. To fear and love, To love as prime and chief, for there fear ends, Be this ascribed; to early intercourse, In presence of sublime or beautiful forms, With the adverse principles of pain and joyEvil, as one is rashly named by men Who know not what they speak. By love subsists All lasting grandeur, by pervading love; That gone, we are as dust.-Behold the fields In balmy spring-time full of rising flowers: And joyous creatures; see that pair, the lanıb And the lamb's mother, and their tender ways Shall touch thee to the heart; thou callest this love, And not inaptly so, for love it is, Far as it carries thee. In some green bower Rest, and be not alone, but have thou there The One who is thy choice of all the world: There linger, listening, gazing, with de light This spiritual Love acts not nor can Without Imagination, which, in truth, From the blind cavern whence is faintly heard Its natal murmur; followed it to light The works of man, and face of human life; And lastly, from its progress have we drawn Faith in life endless, the sustaining thought Of human Being, Eternity, and God. Imagination having been our theme, Here, the foundation of his future years! Perfect him, made imperfect in himself, All shall be his and he whose soul hath risen Up to the height of feeling intellect Be tender as a nursing mother's heart; Child of my parents! Sister of my soul ! Thanks in sincerest verse have been elsewhere Poured out for all the early tenderness Which I from thee imbibed: and 'tis most true That later seasons owed to thee no less; For, spite of thy sweet influence and the touch Of kindred hands that opened out the springs Of genial thought in childhood, and in spite Of all that unassisted I had marked In life or nature of those charms minute That win their way into the heart by stealth, Still, to the very going-out of youth, I too exclusively esteemed that love, And sought that beauty, which, as Milton sings, Hath terror in it. Thou didst soften down This over-sternness; but for thee, dear Friend! Dear Sister! was a kind of gentler spring That went before my steps. Thereafter came One whom with thee friendship had early paired; She came, no more a phantom to adorn And the meek worm that feeds her lonely lamp Couched in the dewy grass. With such a theme, Coleridge! with this my argument, of thee Shall I be silent? O capacious Soul ! Placed on this earth to love and understand, And from thy presence shed the light of love, Shall I be mute, ere thou be spoken of? Thy kindred influence to my heart of hearts Did also find its way. Thus fear relaxed Her over-weening grasp; thus thoughts and things In the self-haunting spirit learned to take In closelier gathering cares, such as become And balanced by pathetic truth, by trust Of Providence; and in reverence for duty, and there Strewing in peace life's humblest ground with herbs, At every season green, sweet at all hours. And now, O Friend! this history is brought To its appointed close: the discipline The time (our guiding object from the first) My knowledge, as to make me capable That is collected among woods and fields, Apt illustrations of the moral world, Caught at a glance, or traced with curious pains. Finally, and above all, O Friend! (I speak With due regret) how much is overlooked That individual character presents As one of many schoolfellows compelled Among the mysteries of love and hate, To take a station among men, the step Yet one more word of personal con stream Flowed in the bent of Nature. Having now Told what best merits mention, further pains Our present purpose seems not to require, Which 'tis reproach to hear? Anon I rose As if on wings, and saw beneath me stretched Vast prospect of the world which I had been And was; and hence this Song, which like a lark I have protracted, in the unwearied heav ens Singing, and often with more plaintive voice To earth attempered and her deep-drawn sighs, Yet centring all in love, and in the end Whether to me shall be allotted life, And, with life, power to accomplish aught of worth, That will be deemed no insufficient plea When, looking back, thou seest, in clearer view Than any liveliest sight of yesterday, Unchecked, or loitered 'mid her sylvan combs, Thou in bewitching words, with happy heart, Didst chaunt the vision of that Ancient The bright-eyed Mariner, and rueful woes After the perils of his moonlight ride, And hast before thee all which then we were, To thee, in memory of that happiness, Felt, that the history of a Poet's mind The last and later portions of this gift Have been prepared, not with the buoyant spirits That were our daily portion when we first Have beed laid open, needs must make me feel More deeply, yet enable me to bear From hope that thou art near, and wilt be More firmly; and a comfort now hath risen THE RIGHT HONORABLE WILLIAM, EARL OF LONSDALE, K.&., ETC., ETC. OFT, through thy fair domains, illustrious | A token (may it prove a monument ! ) In youth I roamed, on youthful pleasures bent; RYDAL MOUNT, WESTMORELAND, Of high respect and gratitude sincere. PREFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1814. THE title-page announces that this is only a portion of a poem; and the Reader must be here apprised that it belongs to the second part of a long and laborious Work, which is to consist of three parts.-The Author will candidly acknowledge that, if the first of these had been completed, and in such a manner as to satisfy his own mind, he should have preferred the natural order of publication, and have given that to the world first; but, as the second division of the Work was designed to refer more to passing events, and to an existing state of things, than the others were meant to do, more continuous exertion was naturally be stowed upon it, and greater progress made here than in the rest of the poem; and as this part does not depend upon the preceding, to a degree which will materially injure its own peculiar interests, the Author, complying with the earnest entreaties of some valued Friends, presents the following pages to the Public. It may be proper to state whence the |