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Till haply startled l<y lome fleecy dam,
That rustling on the bushy Hilt above,
With melancholy bleat of anxious love,
Made meek enquiry for her wandering lamb:
Such a green mountain 'twere most sweet

to climb, E'en while the bosom ach'd with loneliness— How more than sweet, if some dear friend

should bless Th'advent'rous toil, and up the path sublime Now lead, now follow: the glad landscape

round, Wide and more wide increasing without


0 then 'twere loveliest sympathy, to marl The berries of the half-uprooted ash Dripping and bright; and list the torrent's

dash,— Beneath the cypress, or the yew more dark, Seated at ease, on some smooth mossy rock; In social silence now, and now t'unlock The treasur'd heart; arm link'd in friendly

arm, Save if the one, his muse's witching charm Matt'ring brow-bent, at unwatch'd distance

lag; Till high o'er head his beck'ning friend

appears, And from the forehead of the topmost crag Shoots eagerly: for haply there uprears That shadowing Pin K its old romantic limbs, Which latest shall detain t h' enamoured sight Seen from below, when eve the valley dims, Ting'd yellow with the rich departing light; And haply, bason'd in some unsunn'd cleft, A beauteous spring, the rock's collected

tears, Sleeps shelter'd there, scarce wrinkled by

the gale! Together thus, the world's vain turmoil left, Stretch'd on the crag, and shadow'd by the

pine, And bending o'er the clear delicious fount, Ah! dearest youth! it were a lot divine To cheat our noons in moralizing mood, While west-winds fann'd our temples toil

bedew'd: Then downwards slope, oft pausing, from

the mount, Tn some lone mansion, in some woody dale, Where smiling with blue eye, Domestic Bliss Gives thin the Husband's, that the Brother's kiss!

That rudely vers'd in allegoric lore,
The Hi|| of Knowledge I essay'd to trace;
That verd'rous hill with many a resting-place,
And many a stream, whose warbling waters

pour To glad and fertilize the subject plains; That hill with secret springs, and nooks

untrod, And many a fancy-blest and holy sod

Where Inspiration, his diviner strains
Low murmuring, lay; and starting from

the rocks Stiff evergreens, whose spreading foliage

mocks Want's barren soil, and the bleak frosts of

age.. And Bigotry's mad fire-invoking rage! O meek retiring spirit! we will climb, Cheering and cheer'd,this lovely hill sublime; And from the stirring world up-lifted high, (Whose noises, faintly wafted on the wind, Tn quiet musings shall attune the mind, And oft the melancholy theme supply) There, while the prospect through the gazing

eye Pours all its healthful greenness on the soul. We'll smile at wealth, and learn to smile at

fame, Our hopes, our knowledge, and our joys the

same, As neighbouring fountains image, each the

whole: Then when the mind hath drank its fill of

truth, We'll discipline the heart to pure delight, Rekindling sober joy's domestic flame. They whom I love shall love thee. Honor'd

youth! Now may Heaven realize this vision bright!



Hence that fantastic wantonness of woe,
O Youth to partial Fortune vainly dear!
To plunder'd Want's half-shelter'd hovel go,
Go, and some hunger-bitten Infant hear
Moan haply in a dying Mother's ear:
Or when the cold and dismal fog-damps brood
O'er the rank church-yard with sear elm-
leaves strew'd,
Pace round some widow's grave, whose

dearer part Was slaughtcr'd, where o'er his uncoffin'd

limbs The flocking flesh-birds scream'd! Then,

while thy heart Groans, and thine eye a fiercer sorrow dims, Know (and the truth shall kindle thy young

mind) What nature makes thee mourn, she bids

thee heal! O abject! if, to sickly dreams resign'd, All effortless thou leave life's commonweal A prey to Tyrants, Murderers of Mankind.

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Mark this holy chapel well!
The hirth-place, this, of William Tbll.
Here, where stands God's altar dread,
Stood his parents1 marriage-hed.

Here first, an infant to her breast,
Him his loving mother prest;
And kiss'd the habe, and bless'd the day,
And pray'd as mothers use to pray:

Vouchsafe him health, oh God! and give
The child thy servant still to live!—
But God ha<Tdestined to do more
Through hiin, than through an armed power.

God gnve him reverence of laws,

Yet stirring blood in Freedom's cause—

A spirit to his rocks akin,

The eye of the Hawk, and the fire therein!

To Nature and to Holy-writ
Alone did God the boy commit:
■Where flash'd and roar'd the torrent, oft
His soul found wings, and soar'd aloft!

The straining oar and chamois-chase
Had form'd his limbs to strength and grace:
On wave and wind the boy would toss,
Was great, nor knew how great he was!

He knew not that his chosen hand,
Made strong by God, his native land
Would rescue from the shameful yoke
Of Slavery the which he broke!

The counter-weights!—Thy laughter and

thy tenrs Mean but themselves, each fittest to create And to repay the other! Why rejoices Thy heart with hollow joy for hollow good, Why cowl thy face beneath the Mourner's

hood, Why waste thy sighs, and thy lamenting

voices, Image of Image, Ghost of Ghostly Elf, That such a thing, as thou, feelst warm

or cold! Yet what and whence thy gain, if thon

withhold These costless shadows of thy shadowy self? Be sad! be glad! Be neither! seek, or shun! Thou hast no reason why! Thou can'st h«Te

none.! Thy being's being is contradiction.


OK THE Dkki.il Op Immortality.


If dead, we cease to be; if total gloom
Swallow up life's brief flash for aye, we fare
As snmmcr-gusts, of sudden birth and doom,
Whose sound and motion not alone declare,
But arc their whole of being! If the breath
Be life itself, and not its task and tent,
If ev'n a soul like Milton's can know death:
O Man! thou vessel purposeless, unmeant,
Yet drone-hive strange of phantom-purposes,
Surplus of nature's dread activity,
Which, as she gaz'd on some nigh-finish'd

Retreating slow, with meditative pause,
She form'd with restless hands unconsciously.
Blank accident! nothing's anomaly!
If rootless thus, thus substanceless thy state,
Go, weigh thy dreams, and be thy hopes,

thy fears


Composed before day-light, on the morning appointed for the departure of a very worthy, bot not very pleasant Visitor, whom it was feared the rain might detain.

I Know it is dark; and though I have lain
Awake, as I guess, an hour or twain,
I have not once open'd the lids of my eye*.
But I lie in the dark, as a blind man Uca.

0 Rain! that I lie listening to,
You're but a doleful sound at best:

1 owe you little thanks, 'tis true,
For breaking thus my needful rest!
Yet if, as soon as it is light,

O Rain! you will but take your flight
I'll neither rail, nor malice keep,
Tho' sick and sore for want of sleep:
But only now, for this one day,
Do go, dear Rain! do go away!

O Ruin! with your dull two-fold sound,
The clash hard by, and the murmur all

You know, if you know aught, that we.
Both night and day, but ill agree:
For day*, and months, and almost yearn.
Have limp'd on thro' this vale of tears,
Since body of mine and rainy weather
Have liv'd on easy terms together.
Yet if, as soon as it is light,
O Rain! you will but take your flight.
Though you should come again to-morrow.
And bring with you both puin and sorrow;
Tho' stomach should sicken, and knees

should swell—
I'll nothing speak of you but well.
But only now for this one day,
Do go, dear Rain! do go away!

Dear Rain! I ne'er refus'd to sny
You're a good creature in your way;
Nay, I could write a book myself,
Would fit a parson's lower shelf,
Shewing', how very good you are—
What then? sometimes it must he fair!
And if sometimes, why not to day?
Do go, dear Ruin! do go away!

Sear Rain! if I've been cold and shy.

Tale no offence! I'll tell you, why.

A dear old Friend e'en now is here,

And with him came my sister dear;

After long absence now first met,

Long months by pain and grief beset—

We three dear friends! in truth, we groan

Impatiently to be alone.

We three, you mark! and not one more!

The strong wish makes my spirit sore.

We have so much to talk about,

So many sad things to let nut;

So many tears in our eye-corners,

Sitting like little Jacky Homers—

In short, as soon as it is day,

Do go, dear Rain! do go away.

And this I'll swear to you, dear Rain!

Whenever you shall come again.

Be you as dull as e'er you could

I And by the bye 'tis understood,

Von're not so pleasant, as you're good),

Vet, knowing well your worth and place,

I'll welcome you with cheerful face;

And though you stay'd a week or more,

Were ten times duller than before;

Vet with kind heart, and right good will,

I'll sit and listen to you still;

Nor should you go away, dear Rain!

1 ninvited to remain.

But only now, for this one day,

Do go, dear Rain! do go away.



Never, believe me,

Appear the Immortals,

Never alone:

Scarce had I welcom'd the Sorrow-hcguiler,

Jaerhns! but in came Boy Cupid, the Smiler;

l-i! I'hcrbus, the Glorious, descends from

his Throne! They advance, they float in, the Olympians all! With Divinities fills my Terrestrial Hall!

How shall I yield you Due entertainment. Celestial Quire?

Me rather, bright .guests! with your wings

of upbuoyance Bear aloft to your homes, to your banquets

of jnyance, That the roofs of Olympus may echo my lyre! Ah! we mount! on their pinions they waft up my Soul! O give me the Nectar! O fill me the Bowl!

Give him the Nectar! Pour out for the Poet! Hebe! pour free! Quicken his eyes with celestial dew, That Styx the detested no more he may view, And like one of us Gods may conceit him to be! Thanks, Hebe! I quaff it! Jo Psan, I cry! The Wine of the Immortals Forbids me to die!


All hail! thou noble Land,

Our Fathers' native soil! O stretch thy mighty hand,

Gigantic grown by toil, O'er the vast Atlantic wave to our shore: For thou with magic might Canst reach to where the light Of Flia-hus travels bright

The world o'er!

The Genius of our clime,

From his pine-embattled steep,

Shall hail the guest sublime; While the Tritons of the deep With their conchs the kindred league shall proclaim.

Then let the world combine—

O'er the main our Naval Line

Like the milky way shall shine
Bright in fame!

Though ages long have past

Since our Fathers left their home,

Their pilot in the blast.

O'er untravell'd seas to roam, Yet lives the blood of England in our veins!

And shall we not proclaim

That blood of honest fame

Which.no tyranny can tame
By its chains?

While the language free and bold
Which the Bard of Avon sung.

In which our Milton told

How the vault of Heaven rung When Satan, blasted, fell with his host;

While this, with rev'rence meet,

Ten thousand echoes greet.

From rock to rock repeat
Round our coast;

While the manner*, while the arta,
That mould a nation's soul,

Still cling around our hearts—
Between let ocean roll,
Our joint communion breaking with the Sun:

Yet still from either beach

1'he voice of blood shall reach,

More audible than speech,
"We are One."


Ere on my bed my limbs I lay, It hath not been my use to prny With moving lips or bended knees; But silently, by slow degrees, My spirit I to Love compose. In humble Trust mine eye-lids close, With reverential resignation, No wish conceived, no thought expressed! Only a sense of supplication, A sense o'er all my soul imprest That I am weak, yet not unhlest. Since in me, round me, everywhere Eternal Strength and Wisdom are.

But yester-night I pray'd aloud In anguish and in agony, Up-starting from the fiendish crowd Of shapes and thoughts that tortured me: A lurid Unlit, a trampling throng, Sense of intolerable wrong, And whom I scorn'd, those only strong! Thirst of revenge, the powerless will Still baffled, and yet burning still! Desire with loathing strangely mixed On wild or hateful objects fixed. Fantastic passions! mad'ning brawl! And shame and terror over all! Deeds to be hid which Were not hid, Which all confused I could not know, Whether I suffered, or I did: For all seemed guilt, remorse or woe, My own or others still the same Life-stifling fear, soul-stilling shnmc!

So two nights passed: the night's dismay Sadden'd and stunn'd the coming day. Sleep, the wide blessing, seemed to me Distemper's worst calamity. The third night, when my own loud scream Had waked me from the fiendish dream, O'ercome with sufferings strnnge and wild, I wept as I had been a child; And having thus by tears subdued My anguish to a milder mood, Such punishments, I said, were due To natures dcepliest stain'd with sin: For Bye entempesting anew Th' unfathomable hell within The horror of their deeds to view,

To know and loathe, yet wish and do!
Such griefs with such men well agree.
But wherefore, wherefore fall on mcV
To be beloved is all I need,
And whom I love, I love indeed.



Acspicious Reverence! Hush all meaner

song, Ere we the deep preluding strain have poured To the Great Fatiibr, only Riciitpil King, Eternal Father! Kino Omnipotent! Beneath whose shadowy banners, wide un

furl'd. Justice leads forth her tyrant-quelling hosts.

Such symphony requires best instrument. Seize, then, my soul! from Freedom's tro

phied dome The Harp which hnngeth high between the

Shields Of Brutus and Lconidas! With that Strong music, that soliciting spell, force back Earth's free and stirring spirit that liea


For what is Freedom,but theunfetter'd use Of all the powers which God for use had

given t But chiefly this, him first, him last to viewThrough meaner powers and secondary thine** Effulgent, as through clouds that veil his

blaze. For all that meets the bodily sense I deem Symbolical, one mighty alphabet For infant minds; and we in this low world Placed with our hacks to bright Reality, That we may learn with young unwounded

ken The substance from its shadow. Infinite Love, Whose latence is the plenitude of AIL Thou with retracted beams and self eclipse Yeiling revealcst thy eternal Sun.

But some there are who deem themselves

most free When they within this gross and visible

sphere Chain down the winged thought, scoffing

ascent. Proud in their meanness: and themselves

they cheat With noisy emptiness of learned phrase. Their subtle fluids, impacts, essences,! Self-working tools, uncaused effects, and all Those blind Omniscients, those Almighty

Slaves, Untenanting creation of its God.

But properties are God: the naked mans (If ma-,* tlitre be, fantastic Guess or

Ghost!) AcU only by its inactivity. Jli-rt- we pause humbly. Other* boldlier think That as one body seems the aggregate Of Atoms numberless, each organized: So by a strange and dim similitude Infinite myriads of Kill conscious minds Are one all-conscious Spirit, which informs With absolute ubiquity of thought (His one eternal self-affirming Act!) All his involved Monads, that yet seem With various province and apt agency Each to pursue its own self-centering end. Some nurse the infant-diamond in the mine; Some roll the genial juices through the oak; Some drive the mutinous clouds to clash in

air. And rushing on the storm with whirlwindspeed, Yoke the red lightning to their vnllying car. Thus these pursue their never-varying

course, No eddy in their stream. Others, more wild, With complex interests weaving human fates, Duteous or proud, alike obedient all, Evolve the process of eternal good.

And what if some, rebellious, o'er dark

realms Arrogate power? yet these train up to God, And on the rude eye, unconfirmed for day, Flash meteor-lights better than total gloom. Ai ere from Lieule-Oaive's vapoury head The Laplander beholds the far-off Sun Dart his slant beam on unoheying snows, While yet the stern and solitary Slight Brooks no alternate sway, the Boreal Morn With mimic lustre substitutes its gleam, Guiding his course or by Niemi Inke Or Hnlda-Zliiok. or the mossy stone Of Snllar- Kiipper, while the snowy blast Drifts arrowy by, or eddies round his sledge. Making the pour babe at its mother's back Scream in its scanty cradle: he the while Wins gentle solace as with upward eye He marks the streamy banners of the North, Thinking himself those happy spirits shall

join Who there in floating robes of rosy light Dance sportively. For Fancy is the Power That 6rst 11nsensuali7.es the dark mind, Giving it new delights; and bids it swell With wild activity; and, peopling air,' Ry obscure fears of Beings invisible, Emancipates it from the grosser thrall Of the present impulse, teaching Self-con

troul, Till Superstition with unconscious hand Seat Reason on her throne. Wherefore not

vain, Nor yet without permitted power impress'd, 1 deem those legends terrible, with which The polar ancient thrills his uncouth throng:

Whether of pitying Spirits that make their

moan O'er Blaughter'd infants, or that Giant-Bird Vuokiio, of whose rushing wings the noise Is Tempest, when the unutterable shape Speeds from the mother of Death, and utters

once That shriek, which never Murderer heard,

and lived. Or if the Greenland Wizard in strange trance Pierces the untravelled realms of Ocean's bed (Where live the innocent as far from cares As from the storms and overwhelming waves Dark tumbling on the surface of the deep). Over the abysm, even to that uttermost cave By mis-shaped prodigies beleaguered, such As Earth ne'er bred, nor Air, nor the upper


There dwells the Fury-Form, whose unheard name With eager eyc,pale cheek, suspended breath, And lips half-opening with the dread of sound, Unsleeping Sii.knck guards, worn out with

fear Lest haply escaping on some treacherous blast The fateful word let slip the Kit -incuts And frenzy Nature. Yet the wizard her, Armed with Torngarsuck's power, the Spirit of Good, Forces to unchain the foodful progeny Of the Ocean stream—Wild phantasies! yet

wise, On the victorious goodness of high God Teaching reliance, and medicinal hope. Till, from Bethabra northward, heavenly

Truth With gradual steps winning her difficult way, Transfer their rude Faith perfected and pure.

If there be Beings of higherclass than Man, I deem no nobler province they possess, Than by disposal of apt circumstance To rear up Kingdoms: and the deeds they

prompt. Distinguishing from mortal agency, They chuse their human ministers from such

states As still the Epic Song half fears to name. Repelled from nil the Minstrelsies that strike The palace-roof and sooth the Monarch's


And such, perhaps, the Spirit, who (if words

Witnessed by answering deeds may claim our faith)

Held commune with that warrior-maid of France

Who scourg'd the Invader.—From her infantdays.

With Wisdom, Mother of retired Thoughts,

Her soul hud dwelt; and she was quick to mark

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