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45

And something also did my worth obtain; For fearless virtue bringeth boundless gain.

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That the first Greek who touched the
Trojan strand

Should die; but me the threat could not
withhold:

A generous cause a victim did demand;
And forth I leapt upon the sandy plain;
A self-devoted chief-by Hector slain."
"Supreme of heroes-bravest, noblest,
best!

50 Thy matchless courage I bewail no more, Which then, when tens of thousands were deprest

By doubt, propelled thee to the fatal shore;

Thou found'st-and I forgive thee-here thou art

A nobler counsellor than my poor heart.

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And he, whose power restores thee, hath decreed

Thou shouldst elude the malice of the

grave:

Redundant are thy locks, thy lips as fair 60 As when their breath enriched Thessalian air.

"No spectre greets me,-no vain shadow this;

Come, blooming hero, place thee by my side!

Give, on this well-known couch, one nuptial kiss

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To me, this day, a second time thy bride!" 65 Jove frowned in heaven: the conscious 100 Parcæ threw

Upon those roseate lips a Stygian hue.

"This visage tells thee that my doom is past:

Nor should the change be mourned, even if the joys

Of sense were able to return as fast 70 And surely as they vanish. Earth destroys Those raptures duly-Erebus disdains: Calm pleasures there abide-majestic pains.

"Be taught, O faithful consort, to control Rebellious passion: for the gods approve 75 The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul; A fervent, not ungovernable, love. Thy transports moderate; and meekly

mourn

105

110

When I depart, for brief is my sojourn—” "Ah wherefore?-Did not Hercules by 115

force

80 Wrest from the guardian Monster of the

tomb1

Alcestis, a reanimated corse,
Given back to dwell on earth in vernal

bloom?2

Medea's spells dispersed the weight of

years,

And son stood a youth 'mid youthful

peers.3

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120

He spake of love, such love as Spirits feel In worlds whose course is equable and pure;

No fears to beat away-no strife to heal-
The past unsighed for, and the future sure;
Spake of heroic arts in graver mood
Revived, with finer harmony pursued;

Of all that is most beauteous-imaged there
In happier beauty; more pellucid streams,
An ampler ether, a diviner air,
And fields invested with purpureal gleams;
Climes which the sun, who sheds the bright-

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What time the fleet at Aulis lay enchained.

"The wished-for wind was given :- I then revolved

The oracle, upon the silent sea;

And, if no worthier led the way, resolved That, of a thousand vessels, mine should be 125 The foremost prow in pressing to the strand,

Mine the first blood that tinged the Trojan sand.

"Yet bitter, oft-times bitter, was the pang When of thy loss I thought, beloved wife! On thee too fondly did my memory hang,

130 And on the joys we shared in mortal life,The paths which we had trod-these fountains, flowers;

My new-planned cities, and unfinished towers.

Are mourned by man, and not by man alone,

As fondly he believes.-Upon the side Of Hellespont (such faith was entertained)

A knot of spiry trees1 for ages grew

"But should suspense permit the foe to 170 From out the tomb of him for whom she

cry,

'Behold they tremble!-haughty their

array,

135 Yet of their number no one dares to die?' In soul I swept the indignity away:

Old frailties then recurred:-but lofty thought,

In act embodied, my deliverance wrought.

"And thou, though strong in love, art all too weak

140 In reason, in self-government too slow; I counsel thee by fortitude to seek Our blest reunion in the shades below. The invisible world with thee hath sympathized;

Be thy affections raised and solemnized. 145 Learn, by a mortal yearning, to ascendSeeking a higher object. Love was given, Encouraged, sanctioned, chiefly for that end;

For this the passion to excess was driven— That self might be annulled: her bondage prove

150 The fetters of a dream opposed to love."

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25 Where was it that the famous Flower
Of Yarrow Vale lay bleeding?2

His bed perchance was yon smooth mound
On which the herd is feeding:
And haply from this crystal pool,

1 See Pliny's Natural History, 16, 44.

2 The Flower of Yarrow was Mary Scott of Dryhope; but Wordsworth is probably following Logan's Braes of Yarrow, in which the lady mourns over the lover whom she calls "the flower of Yarrow."

30 Now peaceful as the morning,

The water-wraith' ascended thrice-
And gave his doleful warning.

Delicious is the lay that sings
The haunts of happy lovers,

35 The path that leads them to the grove,
The leafy grove that covers:
And Pity sanctifies the verse

That paints, by strength of sorrow, The unconquerable strength of love; 40 Bear witness, rueful Yarrow!

But thou, that didst appear so fair
To fond imagination,

Dost rival in the light of day

Her delicate creation:

45 Meek loveliness is round thee spread,
A softness still and holy;

The grace of forest charms decayed,
And pastoral melancholy.

That region left, the vale unfolds

50 Rich groves of lofty stature,

With Yarrow winding through the pomp
Of cultivated nature;

And, rising from those lofty groves,
Behold a Ruin hoary!

55 The shattered front of Newark's Towers, Renowned in Border story.

Fair scenes for childhood's opening bloom. For sportive youth to stray in:

For manhood to enjoy his strength;

60 And age to wear away in!

Yon cottage seems a bower of bliss,

A covert for protection

Of tender thoughts, that nestle there-
The brood of chaste affection.

65 How sweet, on this autumnal day.
The wild-wood fruits to gather,
And on my True-love's forehead plant
A crest of blooming heather!
And what if I enwreathed my own!
70 "Twere no offence to reason;
The sober Hills thus deck their brows
To meet the wintry season.

I see-but not by sight alone,
Loved Yarrow, have I won thee;
75 A ray of fancy still survives-
Her sunshine plays upon thee!
Thy ever-youthful waters keep
A course of lively pleasure;

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Had this effulgence disappeared
With flying haste, I might have sent,
Among the speechless clouds, a look
Of blank astonishment;

5 But 'tis endued with power to stay,
And sanctify one closing day,
That frail Mortality may see-
What is?-ah no, but what can be!
Time was when field and watery cove

10 With modulated echoes rang,

While choirs of fervent angels sang
Their vespers in the grove;

Or, crowning, star-like, each some sov-
ereign height,

Warbled, from heaven above and earth
below,

15 Strains suitable to both.-Such holy rite,
Methinks, if audibly repeated now
From hill or valley, could not move
Sublimer transport, purer love,

Than doth this silent spectacle-the

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No sound is uttered,-but a deep
And solemn harmony pervades
The hollow vale from steep to steep,
And penetrates the glades.

And gladsome notes my lips can breathe, 25 Far-distant images draw nigh,

80 Accordant to the measure.

1 A spirit thought to preside over waters. Lines 31-32 are taken from Logan's poem.

Called forth by wondrous potency
Of beamy radiance, that imbues
Whate'er it strikes with gem-like hues!

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And if there be whom broken ties
Afflict, or injuries assail,
Yon hazy ridges to their eyes
Present a glorious scale,

45 Climbing suffused with sunny air,
To stop-no record hath told where!
And tempting Fancy to ascend,
And with immortal spirits blend!
-Wings at my shoulders seem to play;
50 But, rooted here, I stand and gaze

On those bright steps that heavenward raise Their practicable way.1

Come forth, ye drooping old men, look abroad,

And see to what fair countries ye are bound!

55 And if some traveller, weary of his road, Hath slept since noon-tide on the grassy ground,

Ye Genii! to his covert speed; And wake him with such gentle heed As may attune his soul to meet the dower 60 Bestowed on this transcendent hour!

Such hues from their celestial urn
Were wont to stream before mine eye,
Where'er it wandered in the morn
Of blissful infancy.

65 This glimpse of glory, why renewed?
Nay, rather speak with gratitude;
For, if a vestige of those gleams
Survived, 'twas only in my dreams.
Dread Power! whom peace and calmness

serve

70 No less than Nature's threatening voice, If aught unworthy be my choice, From thee if I would swerve;

Oh, let thy grace remind me of the light Full early lost, and fruitlessly deplored; 75 Which, at this moment, on my waking sight Appears to shine, by miracle restored; My soul, though yet confined to earth, Rejoices in a second birth!

-Tis past, the visionary splendor fades; 80 And night approaches with her shades, 1 A ladder that may be climbed.

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Shall soon behold this border thickly set 10 With bright jonquils, their odors lavishing On the soft west-wind and his frolic

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