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SUGGESTED BY A PICTURE OF PEELE CASTLE, IN A
I Was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile!
So pure the sky, so quiet was the air! 5
So like, so very like, was day to day! Whene'er I looked, thy Image still was there; It trembled, but it never passed away.
How perfect was the calm! it seemed no sleep; No mood, which season takes away, or brings: 10 I could have fancied that the mighty Deep Was even the gentlest of all gentle Things.
Ah! Then, if mine had been the Painter's hand,
I would have planted thee, thou hoary Pile
Thou shouldst have seemed a treasure-house
A Picture had it been of lasting ease, 25
Elysian quiet, without toil or strife;
Such, in the fond illusion of my heart,
So once it would have been,—'tis so no more;
Not for a moment could I now behold
This, which I know, I speak with mind serene.
Then, Beaumont, Friend! who would have been
the Friend, If he had lived, of Him whom I deplore, This work of thine I blame not, but commend; This sea in anger, and that dismal shore.
0 'tis a passionate Work!—jet wise and well, 45 Well chosen is the spirit that is here;
That Hulk which labours in the deadly swell, This rueful sky, this pageantry of fear!
And this huge Castle, standing here sublime,
1 love to see the look with which it braves, 50 Cased in the unfeeling armour of old time, The lightning, the fierce wind, and trampling Farewell, farewell the heart that lives alone, Housed in a dream, at distance from the Kind! Such happiness, wherever it be known, 55
Is to be pitied; for 'tis surely blind.
But welcome fortitude, and patient cheer,
TO THE DAISY.
Sweet Flower! belike one day to have
A place upon thy Poet's grave,
I welcome thee once more:
But He, who was on land, at sea,
My Brother, too, in loving thee, 5
Although he loved more silently,
Sleeps by his native shore.
Ah! hopeful, hopeful was the day
When to that Ship he bent his way,
To govern and to guide: 10
His wish was gained: a little time
Would bring him back in manhood's prime
And free for life, these hills to climb,
With all his wants supplied.
And full of hope day followed day 15
While that stout Ship at anchor lay
Beside the shores of Wight;
The May had then made all things green;
And, floating there, in pomp serene,
That Ship was goodly to be seen, 20
His pride and his delight!
Yet then, when called ashore, he sought 'The tender peace of rural thought: In more than happy mood To your abodes, bright daisy Flowers! 25 He then would steal at leisure hours, And loved you glittering in your bowers, A starry multitude.
But hark the word !—the ship is gone;—
Returns from her long course:—anon 30
Sets sail:—in season due,
Once more on English earth they stand:
But, when a third time from the land
They parted, sorrow was at hand
For Him and for his crew. 35
Ill-fated Vessel!—ghastly shock!
—At length delivered from the rock,
The deep she hath regained;
And through the stormy night they steer;
Labouring for life, in hope and fear, 40
To reach a safer shore—how near,
Yet not to be attained!
"Silence!" the brave Commander cried;
To that calm word a shriek replied,
It was the last death-shriek. 45
—A few (my soul oft sees that sight)
Survive upon the tall mast's height;
But one dear remnant of the night—
For Him in vain I seek.
Six weeks beneath the moving sea 50
He lay in slumber quietly;
To quit the Ship for which he died,
(All claims of duty satisfied;)
And there they found him at her side; 55
And bore him to the grave.
Yain service! yet not vainly done
Eor this, if other end were none,
That He, who had been cast
Upon a way of life unmeet 60
For such a gentle Soul and sweet,
Should find an undisturbed retreat
Near what he loved, at last—
That neighbourhood of grove and field
A meek man and a brave!
IN MEMORY OF MY BROTHER, JOHN WORDSWORTH,
Commander of the E. I. Company's ship, the Earl of Abergavenny, in which he perished by calamitous shipwreck, Feb. 6th, 1805. Composed near the Mountain track, that leads from Grasmere through Grisdale Hawes, where it descends towards Patterdale.
The Sheep-boy whistled loud, and lo!