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But, not to overlook what thou may'st know, Farewell !--we leave thee to Heaven's peaceful Thy enemies are neither weak nor few ;

care, And circumspect must be our course, and slow, Thee, and the Cottage which thou dost surOr from my purpose ruin may ensue.

round. Dismiss thy followers ;- let them calmly wait Our boat is safely anchored by the shore, Such change in thy estate

And there will safely ride when we are gone ; As I already have in thought devised;

The flowering shrubs that deck our humble door And which, with caution due, may soon be will prosper, though untended and alone : realised."

Fields, goods, and far-off chattels we have none: The Story tells what courses were pursued,

These narrow bounds contain our private store Until king Elidure, with full consent

Of things earth makes, and sun doth shine upon; Of all his peers, before the multitude,

Here are they in our sight-we have no more. Rose,--and, to consummate this just intent, Sunshine and shower be with you, bud and bell ! Did place upon his brother's head the crown, For two months now in vain we shall be sought; Relinquished by his own;

We leave you here in solitude to dwell Then to his people cried, “Receive your lord, With these our latest gifts of tender thought; Gorbonian's first-born son, your rightful king Thou, like the morning, in thy saffron coat, restored!”

Bright gowan, and marsh-marigold, farewell!
The people answered with a loud acclaim: Whom from the borders of the Lake we brought,
Yet more ;-heart-smitten by the heroic deed, And placed together near our rocky Well.
The reinstated Artegal became


for One to whom ye will be dear; Earth's noblest penitent from bondage freed And she will prize this Bower, this Indian shed, Of vice-thenceforth unable to subvert

Our own contrivance, Building, without peer! Or shake his high desert.

-A gentle Maid, whose heart is lowly bred, Long did he reign; and, when he died, the tear whose pleasures are in wild fields gathered, Of universal grief bedewed his honoured bier. With joyousness, and with a thoughtful cheer, Thus was a Brother by a Brother saved ; Will come to you ; to you herself will wed; With whom a crown (temptation that hath set

And love the blessed life that we lead here. Discord in hearts of men till they have braved Dear Spot ! which we have watched with tenTheir nearest kin with deadly purpose met)

der heed, 'Gainst duty weighed, and faithful love, did seem Bringing thee chosen plants and blossoms A thing of no esteem;

blown And from this triumph of affection pure, Among the distant mountains, flower and weed, He bore the lasting name of “pious Elidure !” Which thou hast taken to thee as thy own, 1815.

Making all kindness registered and known

Thou for our sakes, though Nature's child inIII.


Fair in thyself and beautiful alone,

Hast taken gifts which thou dost little need. I've watch'd you now a full half-hour,

And O most constant, yet most fickle Place, Self-poised upon that yellow flower :

That hast thy wayward moods, as thou dost And, little Butterfly ! indeed

show I know not if you sleep or feed. How motionless !- not frozen seas

To them who look not daily on thy face ; More motionless! and then

Who, being loved, in love no bounds dost know, What joy awaits you, when the breeze

And say'st, when we forsake thee, “Let them Hath found you out among the trees, And calls you forth again!

Thou casy-hearted Thing, with thy wild race

Of weeds and flowers, till we return be slow, This plot of orchard-ground is ours ; And travel with the year at a soft pace. My trees they are, my Sister's flowers , Here rest your wings when they are weary; And this sweet spring, the best beloved and

Help us to tell Her tales of years gone by,
Here lodge as in a sanctuary !
Come often to us, fear no wrong;

Joy will be flown in its mortality:
Sit near us on the bough!
We'll talk of sunshine and of song,

Something must stay to tell us of the rest.
And summer days, when we were young;

Here, thronged with primroses, the steep rock's

breast Sweet childish days, that were as long Glittered at evening like a starry sky; As twenty days are now.

And in this bush our sparrow built her nest, 1801.

Of which I sang one song that will not die.

O happy Garden! whose seclusion deep

Hath been so friendly to industrious hours ;

And to soft slumbers, that did gently steep FAREWELL, thou little Nook of mountain. Our spirits, carrying with them dreams of ground,

fowers, Thou rocky corner in the lowest stair

And wild notes warbled among leafy bowers; Of that magnificent temple which doth bound Two burning months let summer overleap, One side of our whole vale with grandeur rare; And; coming back with Her who will be ours, Sweet garden-orchard, eminently fair,

Into thy bosom we again shall creep. The loveliest spot that man hath ever found, 1802.





Expedients, too, of simplest sort he tried :

Long blades of grass, plucked round him as he STANZAS.

lay, WRITTEN IN MY POCKET-COPY OF THOMSON'S Made, to his ear attentively applied,

A pipe on which the wind would deftly play ;

Glasses he had, that little things display,
WITHIN our happy Castle there dwelt One The beetle panoplied in gems and gold,
Whom without blame I may not overlook ; A mailèd angel on a battle-day;
For never sun on living creature shone

The mysteries that cups of flowers enfold,
Who more devout enjoyment with us took : And all the gorgeous sights which fairies do
Here on his hours he hung as on a book,

behold. On his own time here would he float away,

He would entice that other Man to hear
As doth a fly upon a summer brook ;

His music, and to view his imagery :
But go to-morrow, or belike to-day,
Seek for him,-he is filed ; and whither nono

And, sooth, these two were cach to the other

dear : can say

No livelier love in such a place could be: Thus often would he leave our peaceful home, There did they dwell— from earthly labour free, And find elsewhere his business or delight; As happy spirits as were ever seen ; Out of our Valley's limits did he roam :

If but a bird, to keep them company, Full many a time, upon a stormy night, Or butterfly sate down, they were, I ween, His voice came to us from the neighbouring As pleased as if the same had been a Maiden. height:

queen. Oft could we see him driving full in view

1802. At mid-day when the sun was shining bright ;

What ill was on him, what he had to do,
A mighty wonder bred among our quiet crew.

Ah! piteous sight it was to see this Man

AFTER ACCOMPANYING HER ON A MOUNTAIN When he came back to us, a withered flower,

EXCURSION. Or like a sinful creature, pale and wan.

I MET Louisa in the shade, Down would he sit; and without strength or And, having seen that lovely Maid, power

Why should I fear to say
Look at the common grass from hour to hour : That, nymph-like, she is fleet and strong,
And oftentimes, how long I fear to say,

And down the rocks can leap along
Where apple-trees in blossom made a bower, Like rivulets in May ?
Retired in that sunshiny shade he lay;

She loves her fire, her cottage home;
And, like a naked Indian, slept himself away,

Yet o'er the moorland will she roam Great wonder to our gentle tribe it was

In weather rough and bleak; Whenever from our Valley he withdrew;

And, when against the wind she 'strains, For happier soul no living creature has

Oh! might I kiss the mountain rains Than he had, being here the long day through,

That sparkle on her cheek.
Some thought he was a lover, and did woo : Take all that's mine“ beneath the moon,"
Some thought far worse of him, and judged him If I with her but half a noon
wrong ;

May sit beneath the walls
But verse was what he had been wedded to; Of some old cave, or mossy nook,
And his own mind did like a tempest strong When up she winds along the brook
Come to him thus, and drove the weary Wight To hunt the waterfalls.

1805. With him there often walked in friendly guise,

Or lay upon the moss by brook or tree,
A noticeable Man with large grey eyes,

STRANGE fits of passion have I known: And a pale face that seemed undoubtedly

And I will dare to tell, As if a blooming face it ought to be ;

But in the Lover's ear alone,
Heavy his low-hung lip did oft appear,

What once to me befel.
Deprest by weight of musing Phantasy ;
Profound his forehead was, though not severe ;

When she I loved looked every day
Yet some did think that he had little business

Fresh as a rose in June, here :

I to her cottage bent my way,

Beneath an evening moon. Sweet heaven forefend ! his was a lawful right;

Upon the moon I fixed my eye, Noisy ha was, and gamesome as a boy ;.

All over the wide lea; His limos would toss about him with delight,

With quickening pace my horse drew nigh Like branches when strong winds the trees

Those paths so dear to me. annoy: Nor lacked his calmer hours device or toy

And now we reached the orchard-plots To banish listlessness and irksome care ;

And, as we climbed the hill, He would have taught you how you might

The sinking moon to Lucy's cot employ

Came near, and nearer still. Yourself; and many did to him repair,

In one of those sweet dreams I slept. And certes not in vain; he had inventions rare. Kind Nature's gentlest boon!

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And all the while my eyes I kept

Then, crouch no more on suppliant knee, On the descending moon.

But scorn with scorn outbrave ; My horse moved on; hoof after hoof

A Briton, even in love, should be Hé raised, and never stopped :

A subject, not a slave! When down behind the cottage-roof,

1826. At once, the bright moon dropped.

What fond and wayward thoughts will slide
Into a Lover's head !

TO “O mercy!” to myself I cried,

LOOK at the fate of summer flowers, If Lucy should be dead!"

Which blow at daybreak, droop ere even-song : 1799.

And, grieved for their brief date, confess that


Measured by what we are and ought to be, VIII.

Measured by all that, trembling, we foresee, She dwelt among the untrodden ways

Is not so long! Beside the springs of Dove,

If human Life do pass away, A Maid whom there were none to praise

Perishing yet more swiftly than the flower, And very few to love :

If we are creatures of a winter's day; A violet by a mossy stone

What space hath Virgin's beauty to disclose Half hidden from the eye!

Her sweets, and triumph o'er the breathing rose? -Fair as a star, when only one

Not even an hour !
Is shining in the sky.

The deepest grove whose foliage hid
She lived unknown, and few could know The happiest lovers Arcady might boast
When Lucy ceased to be ;

Could not the entrance of this thought forbid : But she is in her grave, and, oh,

O be thou wise as they, soul-gifted Maid ! The difference to me!

Nor rate too high what must so quickly fade, 1790.

So soon be lost.
Then shall love teach some virtuous Youth

“To draw, out of the object of his eyes,”

The while on thee they gaze in simple truth, I TRAVELLED among unknown men,

Hues more exalted, a refined Form, In lands beyond the sea;

That dreads not age, nor suffers from the worm, Nor, England ! did I know till then

And never dies. What love ļ bore to thee.

1824. 'Tis past, that melancholy dream!

Nor will I quit thy shore
A second time; for still I seem

To love thee more and more.

The peace which others seek they find ; Among thy mountains did I feel

The heaviest storms not longest last;
The joy of my desire ;

Heaven grants even to the guiltiest mind
And she I cherished turned her wheel An amnesty for what is past ;
Beside an English fire.

When will my sentence be reversed ?
Thy mornings showed, thy nights concealed

I only pray to know the worst ;
The bowers where Lucy played ;

And wish as if my heart would burst.
And thine too is the last green field O weary struggle ! silent years
That Lucy's eyes surveyed.

Tell seemingly no doubtful tale ; 1799.

And yet they leave it short, and fears
And hopes are strong and will prevail.

My calmest faith escapes not pain ;

And, feeling that the hope is vain,

I think that he will come again.
ERE with cold beads of midnight dew
Had mingled tears of thine,

I grieved, fond Youth! that thou shouldst sue
To haughty Geraldine.

"Tis said, that some have died for love : Immoveable by generous sighs,

And here and there a church-yard grave is found

In the cold north's unhallowed ground, She glories in a train

Because the wretched man himself had slain Who drag, beneath our native skies,

His love was such a grievous pain. An oriental chain.

And there is ne whom I five years have known; Pine not like them with arms across,

He dwells alone Forgetting in thy care

Upon Helvellyn's side : How the fast-rooted trees can toss

He loved- the pretty Barbara died ; Their branches in mid air.

And thus he makes his moan : The humblest rivulet will take

Three years had Barbara in her grave been laid

When thus his moan he made : Its own wild liberties; And, every day, the imprisoned lake "Oh, move, thou Cottage, from behind that oak! Is flowing in the breeze.

Or let the aged tree uprooted lie.



LET other bards of angels sing,

Bright suns without a spot;
But thou art no such perfect thing :

Rejoice that thou art not!
Hecd not tho' none should call thee fair ;

So, Mary, let it be
If nought in loveliness compare

With what thou art to me.
True beauty dwells in deep retreats,

Whose veil is unremoved
Till heart with heart in concord beats,

And the lover is beloved. 1824.

That in some other way yon smoke
May mount into the sky!
The clouds pass on ; they from the heavens de-

part :
I look-the sky is empty space;
I know not what I trace ;
But when I cease to look, my hand is on my

heart. O! what a weight is in these shades! Ye leaves, That murmur once so dear, when will it cease ? Your sound my heart of rest bereaves, It robs my heart of peace. Thou Thrush, that singest loud--and loud and

free, Into yon row of willows flit, Upon that alder sit ; Or sing another song, or choose another tree. Roll back, sweet Rill ! back to thy mountain

bounds, And there for ever be thy waters chained ! For thou dost haunt the air with sounds That cannot be sustained ; If still beneath that pine-tree's ragged bough Headlong yon waterfall must come, Oh let it then be dumb ! Be anything, sweet Rill, but that which thou

art now
Thou Eglantine, so bright with sunny showers,
Proud as a rainbow spanning half the vale,
Thou one fair shrub, oh! shed thy flowers,
And stir not in the gale.
For thus to see thee nodding in the air,
To see thy arch thus stretch and bend,
Thus rise and thus descend, -
Disturbs me till the sight is more than I can

The Man who makes this feverish complaint
Is one of giant stature, who could dance
Equipped from head to foot in iron mail.
Ah gentle Love ! if ever thought was thine
To store up kindred hours for me, thy face
Turn from me, gentle Love! nor let me walk
Within the sound of Emma's voice, nor know
Such happiness as I have known to-day.


XVI. Yes! thou art fair, yet be not moved

To scorn the declaration, That sometimes I in thee have loved

My fancy's own creation. Imagination needs must stir ;

Dear Maid, this truth believe, Minds that have nothing to confer

Find little to perceive.
Be pleased that nature made thee fit

To feed my heart's devotion,
By laws to which all Forms submit

In sky, air, earth, and ocean.



A COMPLAINT. THERE is a change—and I am poor; Your love hath been, nor long ago, A fountain at my fond heart's door, Whose only business was to flow; And flow it did ; not taking heed Of its own bounty, or my need. What happy moments did I count ! Blest was I then all bliss above ! Now, for that consecrated fount Of murmuring, sparkling, living love, What have I ? shall I dare to tell ? A comfortless and hidden well. A well of love-it may be deepI trust it is,--and never dry : What matter? if the waters sleep In silence and obscurity. -Such change, and at the very door

Of my fond heart, hath made me poor. 1806,

How rich that forehead's calm expanse !
How bright that heaven-directed glance !
-Waft her to glory, winged Powers,
Ere sorrow be renewed,
And intercourse with mortal hours
Bring back a humbler mood !
So looked Cecilia when she drew
An Angel from his station ;
So looked; not ceasing to pursue
Her tuneful adoration !
But hand and voice alike are still ;
No sound here sweeps away the will
That gave it birth : in service meek
One upright arm sustains the cheek,
And one across the bosom lies-
That rose, and now forgets to rise,
Subdued by breathless harmonies
Of meditative feeling;
Mute strains from worlds beyond the skies,
Through the pure light of female eyes,

Their sanctity revealing ! 1824.

XVIII. 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 Feiccted from the mountain's side And from the headlong streams.



TO O DEARER far than light and life are dear, Full oft our human foresight I deplore ; Trembling, through my unworthiness, with fear That friends, by death disjoined, may meet no

more! Misgivings, hard to vanquish or control, Mix with the day, and cross the hour of rest; While all the future, for thy purer soul, With “sober certainties of love is blest. That sigh of thine, not meant for human ear, Tells that these words thy humbleness offend; Yet bear me up--else faltering in the rear Of a steep march : support me to the end. Peace settles where the intellect is meek, And Love is dutiful in thought and deed; Through Thee communion with that Love I

seek: The faith Heaven strengthens where he moulds

the Creed. 1824.

Yet how l-for I, if there be truth
In the world's voice, was passing fair ;
And beauty, for confiding youth,
Those shocks of passion can prepare
That kill the bloom before its time;
And blanch, without the owner's crime,
The most resplendent hair.

Unblest distinction ! showered on me
To bind a lingering life in chains :
All that could quit my grasp, or flee,
Is gone ;- but not the subtle stains
Fixed in the spirit ; for even here
Can I be proud that jealous fear
Of what I was remains.

A Woman rules my prison's key :
A sister Queen, against the bent
Of law and holiest sympathy,
Detains me, doubtful of the event ;
Great God, who feel'st for my distress,
My thoughts are all that I possess,
O keep them innocent !

IX. Farewell desire of human aid, Which abject mortals vainly court. By friends deceived, by foes betrayed, Of fears the prey, of hopes the sport ; Nought but the world-redeeming Cross Is able to supply my loss, My burthen to support.

X. Hark! the death-note of the year Sounded by the castle-clock ! From her sunk eyes a stagnant tear Stole forth, unsettled by the shock ; But oft the woods renewed their green, Ere the tired head of Scotland's Queen Reposed upon the block ! 1817.





SMILE of the Moon !- for so I name
That silent greeting from above;
A gentle flash of light that came
From her whom drooping captives love;
Or art thou of still higher birth?
Thou that didst part the clouds of earth,
My torpor to reprove !

Bright boon of pitying Heaven kalas,
I may not trust thy placid cheer!
Pondering that Time to-night will pass
The threshold of another year;
For years to me are sad and dull ;
My very moments are too full
Of hopelessness and fear.

And yet, the soul-awakening gleam,
That struck perchance the farthest cone
Of Scotland's rocky wilds, did seem
To visit me, and me alone;
Me, unapproached by any friend,
Save those who to my sorrows lend
Tears due unto their own.

To-night the church-tower bells will ring
Through these wide realms a festive peal;
To the new year a welcoming ;
A tuneful offering for the weal
Of happy millions lulled in sleep;
While I am forced to watch and weep,
By wounds that may not heal.

Born all too high, by wedlock raised
Still higher- to be cast thus low!
Would that mine eyes had never gazed
On aught of more ambitious show
Than the sweet flowerets of the fields :
- It is my royal state that yields
This bitterness of woe.

OF A FORSAKEN INDIAN WOMAN. [When a Northern Indian, from sickness, is

unable to continue his journey with his companions, he is left behind, covered over with deer-skins, and is supplied with water, food, and fuel, if the situation of the place will afford it. He is informed of the track which his companions intend to pursue, and if he be unable to follow, or overtake them, he perishes alone in the desert; unless he should have the good fortune to fall in with some other tribes of Indians. The females are equally, or still more, exposed to the same fate. See that very interesting work "Hearne's Journey from Hudson's Bay to the Northern Ocean. In the high northern latitudes, as the same writer informs us, when the northern lights vary their position in the air, they make a rustling and a crackling noise, as alluded to in the following poem.]


BEFORE I see another day, Oh let my body die away!

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